My Wedding Rings

I did a thing. I knew this decision, this choice, would happen sporadically. It had to. On Saturday morning, I woke up and asked my mom if she would come with me, as I sought out the perfect chain to put my rings on. I went to Garieri Jewelers in Sturbridge MA and found the most elegent, rose gold chain to put my wedding ring and engagement ring on. It’s been almost 14 months since Matt died; for the past six months, I’ve had a lot of mind drama over taking my rings off. I scoured blogs, widow groups, and podcasts trying to find even the smallest amount of guidance and, yet, each piece arrived at the same conclusion…there is no right or wrong time, place, or way. You just have to do what you feel is right. Gosh, but what does that mean? Would it ever feel right? What does it mean if I move my rings? What are the implications?

And here’s the thing: it means whatever I want it to mean. There are no implications. For me, moving my ring is a combination of acceptance, honor, and acknowledgement. It’s the acceptance of my reality, honor for our love, and acknowledgement that the only place to move is forward. It doesn’t mean I love Matt any less or miss him any less; it doesn’t mean that I’m “moving on” without honoring my relationship and love for Matt. On the contrary, integrating my love for Matt into my life now, without him here, stems beyond my rings. Our relationship and love is very much a part of my life, my journey, and my story now and forever. The grief that accompanies losing him is something I will always carry. All that said, it’s time.

These rings are part of our story. They represent a story of love; the story of us.

So, let me tell you the story about my rings…

Matt and I started dating in July of 2011 (refer to the shorts picture). Soon after we started dating, Matt confidently told me that one day, he would marry me. He emphasized how “crazy” his future commitment was, given his previous intentions to never get married; he emphasized how special it was that he was “ok” entertaining that thought. Normally, this would have taken me aback, but this was just different. Everything with Matt felt different than ever before. What Matt failed to address during this initial profession of love, was his ideas regarding when. And with that, he was in no rush.

I’d often get questions from family and close friends regarding our intentions. I was 25 when Matt and I started dating, so basically a dinosaur in my grandparent’s book. And, after about 3 years and at least 25 different weddings of close friends and family, I started to get a little antsy. But, I also knew, Matt would propose in his time, and would not be rushed by outside “pressure.”

Which brings us to 2015, four years after “we” began.

When Matt told me in summer of 2015 that he asked my dad for my hand in marriage (yes you read that correctly), I was both excited and resigned to the thought we were on his laissez faire timeline.

Fast forward to September 11th 2015. I was in a “career transition” phase, balancing my dietetics school work with part time jobs, and wondering whether or not it made sense to get back into my marketing career. I’d often walk over to the Starbucks in Harbor East to get my classwork done and simultaneously peruse the job listings on Indeed.com. Matt called me while I was at Starbs on this particular Friday, letting me know that he got home from work early and wanted to know my whereabouts. He further explained that he told Kris and Judi we would go over their house for happy hour, and he wanted to leave soon. As you can imagine, my unshowered, post-workout self felt a little….RUSHED. How dare he make plans without consulting me! I am in the middle of a V-INTENSE job search! I fast-walked back to our townhouse and ran up into the bedroom in a fluster, trying to pull myself together for our imprompteau rendezvous.

Just then, I saw Charlie come strolling down our townhouse hallway with an iphone charger wrapped around his neck. I yelled “Matt, SOMETHING IS WRAPPED AROUND CHARLIES NECK!!!” Afraid that my dog was choking to death, I ran over to Charlie and noticed a piece of paper hanging from said charger. Matt, in the guest room at the time, started walking over. Rather perplexed, I said “Huh? It looks like a piece of paper is attached to it?” Matt gestured “Well, why don’t you read it?” Then he started to shake and reach down into his pocket. Then, I started to shake because “DUH CHRISTINA!” I read the note, as Matt got down on one knee, trembling more than I had ever seen him tremble before (and I did spot him once or twice on the bench).

Matt, struggling to get words out, explained (not verbatim), “You are the love of my life. You make me the happiest person in the world, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Then I read the note. It said “Mom, will you marry dad?” So I, in all my unshowered glory, said “oh my god, oh my god…” as Matt put the ring on my finger. And then he said “So…is that a yes?” And I exclaimed, “OF COURSE!!!” Lots of happy tears ensued after this and then he said, “Ok, now you really need to hurry up because I told Kris and Judi we’d be there like an hour ago. As in, there’s no time to wash your hair.”

We did venture over to Kris and Judi’s house, and my keen sister-in-law immediately noticed the ring. Her reaction was priceless, in the expressiveness only Judi can pull off. We called our parents and our close friends, sharing our exciting, long awaited news, while popping some bubbly on the deck overlooking Stoney Beach. I think both Kris and Judi were equally surprised because, as the story goes, Matt had planned on doing this big elaborate proposal at a later date, but when he got the ring in his hands (thanks Kris!), he just couldn’t hold onto it any longer. Literally, he got the ring from Kris that morning and proposed to me that afternoon.

I learned that the brothers conducted a secret boys trip up to Connecticut under a false guise to select the ring from a family favorite, Rumanoff’s Fine Jewelery. I had dropped hints at the type of ring I wanted and Matt definitely delivered. The only problem: his method of trying to measure my finger with a string as I slept one night failed to produce accurate results. The ring was almost 2 sizes too big, though I tried to pretend like it fit perfectly. Matt, concerned that the “car” he just put on my finger may fall off, insisted we fix it. Because of the braiding of the ring, it was a little challenging to perfectly bring it in; but, they made it happen with a slightly smaller center loop. The smaller loop of my ring makes it that much more special.

I’ve worn that engagement ring for 5.5 years now.

Aside from “purple shampoo showers” and the occasional cleaning, I have never taken it off. Likewise, I haven’t removed my wedding band in over 4 years. Bryson often plays with my rings while I put him to sleep at night. I often spin it around, recalling the times Matt told me I was the love of his life, including that heart wrenching, final time.

These rings have seen a lot. Laughter, tears, shaking hands, hands that cradled a newborn baby, and hands that didn’t want to let go. They’ve seen “in sickness and in health,” and everything in between. They are an emblem of a love so strong, it transcends life. And I couldn’t think of a better place to keep my wedding rings, than close to my heart. I had a little help in making this decision (thanks Matt) , and it couldn’t be more perfect.