It was a crappy day. The whole day. The whole weekend really. And to top it off it was a Monday. I was emotional because of something happening for one of my closest friends and my kids were feeling my emotions being all over the place. Finally after naptime I consented to them going outside to play in the pool. Being the great mom I am (heavy sarcasm) I put sunscreen on them. And being as in love with my ring as I am (no sarcasm there) I took off my wedding ring to apply said sunscreen. If I don't it gets all in the diamonds and looks yucky. Anyway, because of my exhausted state, I set my rings on the counter rather than the high shelf above the sink. And then forgot about them as I sent my kids outside and determined to do the first dish of the weekend.
Then the kids came in and started playing and soon I heard a little tinker as my CTR ring fell to the kitchen floor off of Addy's finger. I immediately noticed that my wedding ring, too, was missing. I stopped everything. We were supposed to be headed to the water park. But I quit getting ready. I searched. And searched. And searched. And nothing came up. I called Scott at about 4:30, an hour into looking, and demanded he come home (not one of my finer moments, but like I said, it wasn't my day). He couldn't. So I cried and continued looking. When he got home I told him I didn't want to go to the water park anymore but that I wanted to look all night until I found it. We looked for another hour, at which point he suggested we just take a break and go to the water park. So we did. I went home feeling a little better and feeling confident that with Scott's help I would find my ring.
But Monday came and went and still, nothing. Then Tuesday. Then Wednesday. Then Thursday. Then Friday. I was devastated. I looked at replacing it. They don't make it anymore, so the ones they have are clearance and still out of possible replacement range. I was super depressed (with this and other things going on at the time). I tore the house apart. We moved every appliance. People suggested looking places that I had checked a billion times. I dumped out the friggin' peanut butter jar because I was making sandwiches when I noticed it missing and considered it had fallen there...I mean seriously. I dumped out every shoe, took apart every piece of furniture, explored every nook and cranny. Looked. Looked. Looked.
The poor kids were beside themselves. I couldn't focus on anything. I knew that eventually I would have to do something other than search 24/7. But I didn't want to.
This whole time I started to think about my ring. About everything it meant to me. So let me write down the story about my ring so I always remember it. I'm kinda picky. I knew what I didn't like. I didn't like teeny tiny diamonds. I didn't like squares. I didn't like stones with a plain band. And then one day Scott emailed me with the subject line "Scary Stuff..." with a link to this ring. It was perfect. It met all my criteria. It exceeded my wildest dreams. I instantly fell in love with it and the fact that Scott was the one who had found it and dreamed that it would be mine one day as his wife. I never tried on another ring. I never looked at another ring. And this was all before we'd even set foot in a store. It's the only ring I ever looked at and the only one I wanted.
To me, that ring symbolizes our marriage. Beautiful, pure, mine. It stands for the amazing things we have accomplished the last five years. The struggle we made it through to even get married. The hurt and pain and trials. The triumphs, the new resolve, and the joy. I feel like we have accomplished so much in five years! Our anniversary will be Sept 24th. In these five years we have both graduated college, brought almost 4 babies into this world, bought a house and turned it into a home, nailed down Scott's dream job, and managed to love each other more each day. I know the ring it temporary and our marriage is eternal. But that ring reminds me of our eternity. It tells everyone that I belong to someone and it reminds me every day how much I love that man.
Friday was another dreary day. I decided to stop looking. I told Scott to just pray that it was one of those things you find when you quit obsessing. I put in a load of laundry that morning. Checked every pocket, shook out every shirt, turned every sock inside out (I know, so much for not obsessing). I started the load. And then I heard clinks. It took all my will power not to open that washing machine and sort through again, but seeing as it's a front loader my common sense told me to wait. And my experience told me that it was just a key Scott had left in a pocket I had somehow missed.
I texted Scott: "I hear something in the washer. I'm not getting excited, but pray anyways."
The washer ended.
I opened it.
And there it was. In the door seal.
I was so happy. And relieved. And grateful.
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