The ring

When we got engaged, I picked out my own ring. I knew exactly what I wanted. A round solitaire, cut just right so that it had lots of sparkle when the light hit it. I wanted it set on a thin delicate gold band, with a wedding band that was the same thin band, with a small diamond that wrapped around each side of the solitaire. It was perfect. Classic, nothing trendy or flashy. I thought it was a simple, but truly beautiful ring that would stand the test of time, the same way I believed our marriage would.
And it did. It sparkled more than most diamonds I’d seen, and did not dull over the years. The prongs held strong, and the dainty gold bands, although they looked as though they should be fragile, were just as strong as the day we bought them.

Right up until the year of the affair.

Suddenly, I noticed that one of the six prongs holding the diamond had broken off.

Then another. And another.

Then one day, the band got caught on something, which had happened plenty of times before, but this time it bent, leaving it slightly misshapen.

I remember thinking how odd it was. All of these years, the rings had been nearly perfect. Like new. But now, all at once, they seemed to be falling apart.

Was it a coincidence that my ring started falling apart at the same time that unbeknownst to me, my marriage was falling apart? That the rings that represented our wedding vows began to break at the same time that the vows themselves were broken?

Maybe.

Maybe not.
Shortly after finding out about the affair, I remember going and getting a manicure. It was not something I normally did. I would occasionally go get my toes done, but normally kept my nails fairly short and rarely painted them. As they were about to get started, I took off my wedding ring for the first time in a long time. There was such an indentation there where the ring had been for so long, and I remember being so struck in that moment by how that part of my finger had been seemingly permanently disfigured from years of wear. And I remember thinking to myself, “much like my heart.”

I stopped wearing my ring that day. I couldn’t bring myself to put it back on. I just couldn’t bear to look down and see it there on my finger. It was supposed to be a symbol of love. A token worn as a reminder of the vows that were made. But now, it only reminded me of vows that had been broken. Now it only brought me pain.

After we decided to reconcile, at some point, I did put it back on. But it never really held quite the same value for me. It didn’t bring me pain to look at it so much as it did before, but still felt a little like it represented a marriage that was in our past, if that makes sense. I had come to have an appreciation for the ring again, because that marriage held some good memories too over 24 years, but still, that marriage was broken, and we were building a new one. So maybe a new ring should represent this new beginning.
The funny thing about Jeff’s ring is that he actually went out and bought it a couple of weeks after I kicked him out of the house. I remember when he told me that he had bought one, I thought he was nuts. Because as far as I was concerned we had a slim to , ohhh, zero chance of staying married at that time. He had not worn a ring in years, and he said he was going to wear it, proudly, every day for the rest of his life. Alrighty then, I thought. You go right ahead.

I guess that’s a good example of his insistence, and persistence in trying to get me back. Ha. He was heavily putting into practice the whole speaking things into existence theology by claiming things as he wanted them to be instead of how they were. His life coach Joey’s lessons on positive thinking and how the world you create for yourself begins with your thoughts had already taken root. I couldn’t see this world he was creating in his thoughts, where we were happily married. Not yet anyway.

But he wanted a ring, so after carefully searching for the perfect one, he bought one.

“It’s made of tungsten”, he said. “It’s supposedly very strong and tough and durable, but still not too heavy. You can’t bend it or dent it, it doesn’t scratch easily and is almost impossible to break.”

My reply to him:

“I wish my heart was made of tungsten.”
Well, my heart wasn’t made of tungsten. But it turns out that it was a lot more durable than I had believed it to be. And now, over a year later, I can see the world he created with his thoughts and actions back when he first bought that ring. And now I treasure seeing that ring made of tungsten on his finger, and knowing that he treasures it, and the second chance that it represents.
Just before Christmas, I decided it was time to start looking for a ring of my own. This time, I wanted something completely different. Something that would represent this new beginning.

I didn’t want a diamond as the main stone this time. I wanted a gem stone of some sort.

I’m not one of those people that is into crystals and gems having special powers or anything of that sort. But y’all do know I’m a big fan of symbolism. Of things having special meanings.

One day as I was browsing Pinterest boards, I saw the most beautiful ring. It was love at first sight. And it was a beautiful pale pink stone set in diamonds and rose gold. Rose gold, y’all. It looked vintage and new all at the same time. Absolute perfection.

The description said the stone was morganite, and after a quick google search of what that stone represents, I knew it was the one.

It represents several things; the healing of a broken heart, trust, inner strength, peace, calmness, and joy.

It also represents love that is constant, maintained and lasting.

Do I believe that a stone will bring us all of that? No. No I don’t. Our thoughts, choices and actions will bring us all of that. But I sure do love that my ring can be an outward representation of our innermost desires for our marriage, and that I can wear it as a symbol of my healing broken heart, the rebuilding of trust, inner strength, peace, calmness, joy, and a love that is constant, maintained, and lasting.

And it doesn’t hurt that it is the most amazingly beautiful shade of peachy pink blush. The stone is oval shaped, surrounded by small diamonds, set on a thin rose gold band with a row of small diamonds on each side.
I don’t feel sad when I see my ring anymore. I don’t see the broken vows. When I look at the ring on my finger now, I see beauty. I see strength. I see goodness. I see all the goodness that’s come from our past, all the goodness in this present moment, and I see a promise for so much goodness in our future.

It is with those thoughts, and God at the center, that we build this new life. And now every time I look down and see this new symbol of our commitment, this symbol of everything good in our lives, past and present and future, I’m reminded to focus on just that.

What do you see when you look at your ring? Do you even notice it anymore? Do you even wear it?

Maybe take a minute today to remember what it represents. Maybe you’ve forgotten. Maybe somewhere in the busy noise of your every day life you’ve forgotten the value of the marriage that ring represents. Remind yourself of all the goodness from the past, all the goodness in the present, and all the goodness that is yet to come, and if necessary, start rebuilding your own marriage with those positive thoughts. When you stop taking each other for granted, when you fully engage in a commitment to the vows those rings represent and start truly valuing and loving each other with intention, what you will find, is a treasure.

Amy Thurston Gordy