It was that kind of a weekend around here. Mr. D had a head cold and you know what guys are like when they're sick. The weather was grumpy all day Saturday. We had a million and twenty things to do, but the weather and people's health weren't cooperating. In the middle of this I was driven to clean the garage because why have a giant shed 50 feet away if you can't store crap in it? So I coerced Team Testosterone into emptying our garage between flag football games. I'd come home after the second game, sweep it out and put things in their proper place--shed or garage. Picture this: everything in the garage is on the lawn when a downpour hits hard, complete with thunder and lighting.
On a happy note: Mr. B's flag football team trounced their opponents and they're ranked second in the league. He had a heckuva game, too. Both teams were down to 5 players, so all the kids played the entire game--at least until lightning ended the game.
We sped home and Mr. D was miffed at me for insisting on cleaning the garage in a thunderstorm. He may have had a point, but all the concrete dust that had settled on the contents of our garage was getting washed away in the rain. Silver linings, right?
I spent two hours sweeping and putting things away, and it is still miraculous to walk around in our garage unfettered by lawnmower, rototiller, trailer and power washer. The new storage area has lots of space, even after I dragged up the lawn chairs and pool toys. Organized and tidy--I've walked out to admire my work at least seven times since Saturday.
Tragedy struck while I was hauling a stack of metal posts out to the yard. My ring finger got pinched and I dropped the posts with a yelp. I looked down at my finger and saw my wedding ring had snapped apart--the band was pinching the skin of my finger. Broken. I couldn't believe it.
Part of me is sentimental enough to be upset by this. It's my ring! I designed it myself! A symbol of our love now broken after nearly two decades--what does this mean? Can the ring be saved???
(Probably not. I'm not a welder, just the granddaughter of one, but I know mended metal is weaker.)
Part of me is practical enough to understand this isn't tragic by any stretch. Of course it wore down and got weak enough to break apart. You wore it facing the same direction for two decades. You hardly ever took it off and it took a beating. At least you didn't lose it or lose the diamond, it's only a busted band. If you didn't always wear it, it wouldn't have broken. You can design a new ring, a stronger ring, it's only a ring, only a symbol.
Part of me is pleased by the break because my ring was gold, which I never wear. For a very long time I've wished my ring was silver, but you can't redo your wedding ring just because your taste in jewelry changes...or can you? I could design a silver ring and it will match all of my earrings!
(Back story on the ring: Mr. D proposed with only a diamond in a plain-Jane setting. Then he took me to a jeweler in Madison where I designed my own ring around the diamond. A custom ring like nobody else's. I still love how it is uniquely mine and I really hope we can replicate it in silver--or titanium--or tungsten.)
Mostly I was aghast and confused. Fortunately, my good friend N is the kind of gal who knows jewelry and has a personal relationship with a couple of stores (and I'm the kind of gal who doesn't know an empress cut from a carat, but I am smart enough to call someone who does). She gave me recommendations and assured me that what happened is NOT the end of the world (or my marriage). People upgrade their rings all the time, it seems. They get anniversary bands and reset their stones and it has no bearing on their true love. She left me with fresh perspective: today's metals are better than the metals used in jewelry twenty years ago, so my new ring will be stronger. Aha! Not unlike my relationship with Mr. D. We're not the same people we were twenty years ago, we're better and therefore our bond is superior to the one forged back in 1995.
So, it's Monday. My garage is cleaned, most of the summer stuff is stored and my left hand feels naked. I have to drive to town and talk to a jeweler about making me a new wedding ring.