Wedding Rings

“With this ring I thee wed…” Those are the first words in the traditional vows when a husband and wife exchange rings. 

I remember that part of our wedding ceremony as being quite poignant. I held my husband’s hand while repeating the vows, trying not to tremble, holding back my tears and sliding the gold band over his knuckle. The audience was silent, my husband was silent, and I signed with relief when that part was over.

 Though my husband still has his original wedding band, I am on my third wedding ring. In a way, three is a significant number for me. My husband proposed marriage to me three times before I said yes, and my wedding finger has been adorned three times with three different rings, but by the same man. 

The first wedding ring was a simple and inexpensive gold band. Just before we married, we’d bought five acres and planned to build a house. Pouring money into an expensive ring or an elaborate wedding ceremony wasn’t even a possibility. 

We opted to exchange our vows in the foyer of a church at no charge. My wedding dress was a bridesmaid dress I’d worn in a friend’s wedding and our reception was a potluck in a grange hall. The cake came from a grocery store bakery and my ring from a pawn shop. 

But the significance of the narrow band of gold with its teeny tiny diamond in the center was a clear message to other men: I was wedded, I was in union with my husband, and I was unavailable to any other man. 

After only a few years, that narrow band of gold wore so thin that it fell apart. Though I was still married, the absence of that ring sent a different message.  Other men, glancing at my left hand seemed to think that I was open for a relationship. 

But, my ring finger did not remain bare for long before my husband bought me another ring, this time one with better quality gold and not from a pawn shop. But this second ring did not last long either. 

When a friend and her husband invited us to go golfing with them, I tucked my wedding ring inside my pants pocket along with the tees. Getting a tee from my pocket, I neglected to notice my ring falling onto the golf course. Not until the end of the game was I aware that I no longer had my ring. Again, my finger was bare and to other men, I appeared single, available and independent. 

Then, for Christmas that year, my husband bought me yet another ring and again the ring clearly communicates to others of my commitment and devotion to someone else. 

So far, so good on this third ring. 

Why Bother?

Why bother with the wedding ring tradition?  A wedding ring speaks an unmistakable message to others: I’m committed to love and to cherish my spouse until death parts us. Thankfully, a lost ring is replaceable