Readers can relate:
So you lost your gay wedding ring? How virtually normal. Sorry for the loss. Hope it turns up, and welcome to the club.
Another member:
I lost my wedding ring too. It was a very cool, custom ring, kind of tubular, 18 karats. Cost quite a bit of money. I think I was eating Taco Bell, and it was cold out, making my fingers slimmer, and when I threw the wrappers in the trash, it just flew off into the trash can. That’s my best theory. What an undignified ending for a wedding ring.
Having blown my shot at a cool custom ring, my wife and I went to the pawn shop, where I bought a goofy, old-school, 14 karat art-carved band for $49. I love that 2nd ring, and it reminds me of a time in my life and the place that I lived in then, when I was a little more careless, but still me. I have had it for 14 years, and it has only grown more meaningful with time.
I guess I am saying that you can love your next ring too. It will remind you of this moment with your husband, him being by your side, recovering from the hospital, and all the warp and woof of life, including the messy, annoying bullshit, like going to a hospital and losing a ring. A new ring for yet another stage of marriage and living. All perfectly, perfectly normal.
A near-member:
I was newly married and newly ringed while enjoying some lap-swimming with a friend. Shrinkage does occur in other places in a cold pool. One freestyle stroke later and the ring just slipped off into the large and deep Olympic-sized pool. I was devastated as I frantically flagged down my friend in the other lane who probably thought I was having a heart attack (somewhat true). We searched for what seemed a half-hour as we tried to avoid other swimmers who thought we were complete dicks. As we were about to give up and get out, I noticed a shiny thing in the catchment on the side of the pool. Eureka. I was so relieved.
Well, this will make you feel worse perhaps, but I thought we could start a new thread.
The thread continues with many more stories:
If it makes you feel any better, I am on my third ring in four years.
The first was lost on the second day of our honeymoon (the Pacific is cold with strong currents). The second was lost during a friend’s bachelor party (to this day it’ a mystery, along with most of that night). And I now have a spare fourth ring after losing and later finding my current one (I wisely go with the $40 plain silver band every time). Needless to say, I have a very understanding wife. Sounds like Aaron is just as considerate, but if you need a favorable comparison, feel free to show him this email.
Perhaps the most wrenching tale:
My wife and I had one of those crazed screaming matches that ended with me storming out of the house and walking about a mile to cool off. I came to a local school building and sat down on a bench to rest. I took off my wedding ring, pondering my marriage while I fiddled with it.
And then I dropped my wedding ring. And it rolled about 10 feet. Into the sewer. Gone. Forever.
Holy shit, I thought. My wife’s gonna think I threw my wedding ring away in a fit of rage and divorce me! There was only one thing I could do: Tell truth truth, however stupid it may be. I literally ran home and apologized in tears. She was annoyed, but believed me. That was about 10 years ago and we’re on our way to 18th anniversary.
Cheer up, Andrew. You’ll find over time that the pain of losing your wedding ring lessens. It doesn’t fully go away, but you learn to deal with it.
Another sends the above photo:
While snorkeling in the Caribbean, I thrust my left hand down at just the right angle and speed to basically slingshot my ring off of my finger. I can still see it silently, gently, floating about 20 feet down into the corals, glinting in the sunlight before settling into some dark crevice. It reminded me of a scene from Lord of the Rings (though more tropical). I had no hope of retrieving it (especially after I took my eye off the landing spot to tell everyone what happened). But, my sister was at least able to take the attached photo of me diving down after it, so I could tell my wife back at the hotel that I made some effort to get it back. Luckily we were poor when we got married, so the financial hit wasn’t too bad. And it is a bummer to not have the ring from our wedding, but I did gain a story.
Another photo:
Two days ago I cleaned house, worked in the yard, did laundry and dishes, went grocery shopping, had lunch at Audrey’s school, and discovered that somewhere along the way I had lost the diamond from my wedding ring. Yesterday I found it on the pavement under our outdoor faucet, where I had detached the hose. A miracle!
Two sentences you’ll only find on the Dish:
Very sorry about the loss of your wedding ring. It brings back a memory of my first colonoscopy.
I was on the table just slipping into unconsciousness when I heard the doctor announce that I had a nipple ring. Then I heard a bb bouncing on the floor. One of the nurses said that she’d get it, and that’s the last I remembered. When I awoke, the ring had been saved for me, but since I had been pierced fairly recently, the hole closed. Getting it done the first time was excruciating. I had to wait months before I could have it redone, and the pain was worse the second time around because I actually knew what to expect.
Not to minimize your loss, but if given a choice, I’d lose my wedding ring over the nipple ring any day. Now you can go shopping, and Aaron will get to place it on your finger all over again. Sounds sweet to me, especially since you’ll most likely get a “happy ending” afterwards.
Another reader:
Years ago we were in a hotel room when my mother realized she had accidentally thrown out her engagement ring. She had wrapped it in tissue for protection in her suitcase (so, never do this) and then placed the tissue on a counter, later thinking it was trash. It had been my father’s mother’s ring and after a frantic search it became clear it had gone out with the trash and was gone for good. I remember my mother’s devastation.
Years later, after my father died, my mother told me about how my father had not gotten angry or upset, he had simply said “It’s OK. These things happen. I’ll buy you a new one.” It was his family heirloom, and his calmness, his complete absence of blame, did a great deal to calm my mother and alleviate her guilt. He bought her a new ring and when my mother died I took possession of it. This new ring says much more to me about love, about my parents’ commitment to each, than the original ring ever could have. I treasure it.
It’s a thing. It’s not your husband’s love, which will endure regardless of how many rings you go through.
One more:
I am sorry about your wedding ring. But Aaron is right, it is a thing. It is a symbol of your relationship. You don’t lose his love with the ring.
In 1982, I was 39.5 weeks pregnant, 40% dilated, and not in labor. My two year old was having a rough time with our rough time. My husband took her apple picking with his boss and children. He lost his wedding ring in the orchard. Extremely pregnant woman are rather volatile, and I was no exception. A few days later, the baby was born. We replaced the ring. The feisty toddler is herself 34 weeks pregnant now and on medicine to try to keep her from delivering for another two weeks.
Steve and I are still happily married. He collapsed at work yesterday from otherwise silent stomach bleeding. Last night they found a significant tumor, probably a low grade malignancy. He had many CT scans last night to look for true size of the tumor and any sign of spread. We are awaiting a meeting of the experts to formulate a plan. That wedding ring is so unimportant today.
The Dish 