Research tells us that a ring to symbolize the marriage between two people dates back as far as ancient Egypt, some 3,000 years ago. A wedding ring is usually made of a precious metal and, in our culture, is worn on the ring finger of the left hand, as it is closer to the heart and signifies that the person wearing it is married. I find this information to be both interesting and meaningful as it applied to me for more than three decades.
One year and 6 days ago, my husband of 37 years died suddenly. As he lay near death in the hospital, I took the wedding band from his left hand and placed it on my own right ring finger where it has stayed, accompanied by my own wedding band, which resided on my left hand, where he placed it all those years ago – until yesterday.
As the year and my grief have moved slowly forward, I adamantly declared to myself and to anyone who would listen that I was still married. I am his wife and nothing will change that I insisted. I have cried buckets of tears, screamed with pain, prayed to die, volunteered my time to those in need and proudly wore two wedding bands, mine and his while telling one and all that I was still married to the man who was the center of my universe. Last week, however, I suffered through the agony of facing the anniversary of the worst day of my life, the day he died. Amazingly, I survived. I took a deep breath one year and one day later and told myself, aloud, “I made it. I survived the worst pain imaginable, every anniversary, birthday, holiday and special occasion without him, had my heart ripped from my body and woke to a new day.” It was that day that I began to question my marital status.
I will always be the person who loved and was loved in return, deeply, completely and joyfully by a wonderful, tender, deeply caring and spiritual man for more than three decades. My very soul was shaped by this love and I grew into the woman that I am because of it. Every year; every smile; every special event; every vacation; every hour spent making love or taking walks and every pet name he had for me will be forever etched on my heart but I am no longer married. I am a widow.
I refused to even say that word for months but one year and 6 days later, I can say it. I am a widow. I am no longer married, so I took my husband’s wedding band off of my right hand and placed it in my jewelry box and I took my own wedding band and placed it on the ring finger of my right hand where it reminds me of the precious relationship that we had. I recall with love and copious tears the day he placed that ring on my finger but it is time for me to face the reality of who I am. I am a widow and with this ring, on my right hand, I will remember and I will go on.
