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Marriage Rings and Heart Strings

Posted on: December 24, 2014 | Posted by: Alison Miller

http://widowsvoice.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/IMG_1597333.jpgIt’s a topic written about and commented upon, frequently.  Little circles, made of gold or silver, encrusted with stones or plain.  Maybe engraved.  Little circles that symbolize so much.  For such a tiny thing, they can wield so much power.

 

Mine did.  I loved being married to my husband.  I loved our passion, I loved our friendship, I loved that we split our responsibilities between us, according to our strengths.  The ring on my finger meant so much to me.

 

Chuck was unable to wear his wedding ring after his first cancer, due to the swelling left after the massive radiation and numerous surgeries, so he wore it on the ring finger of his right hand.  When he went into the hospital, of course, he removed it and I wore it on a chain around my neck until he died, and then put it on my ring finger, behind my own since it was too large for me.

 

 

In the 20 months since he died, his ring has traveled back and forth from that finger to my right hand, to a chain around my neck again, and then back.  It became my talisman, the shine on it worn even dimmer by my fingers tracing it as my mind traveled backwards in time.

 

As of a few days ago, neither Chuck’s nor my ring blesses my hand.  I removed them, said a blessing on them, kissed them and tied them together with a suede ribbon, in order to give them to my son and his soon-to-be wife.  It was okay emotionally, really, because of who they were going to.  Our son and his girlfriend are a beautiful couple and I see their future marriage as one similar to mine and Chuck’s, with love present in every way.  And our son grows more like Chuck every day.  He is a man committed to his family, with a strong work ethic.  When he marries, he’ll become a step-dad, as Chuck was, adding another daughter to his life (he has an almost 2 year old already).  

 

My determination is to have very little to leave behind when I die.  I want any treasures I own to already be in possession of those I love.  If I kept my rings, of what use would they be after my death?  This way they will be used and loved by my son.  Those rings carry beautiful, loving Karma and I’m blessed that they want to have them to signify their new love, their new life together.  

 

My ring finger is indented from 23 years of wearing that ring and I cherish that indent the same way I cherish the intangibles of our life together; dancing with him, looking at the full moon with him, standing with him as he reenlisted in the Air Force, hugging him so tightly when he finally got home from work at the base on 9/11, cruising with him in his t-top 78 Corvette, packing the truck and preparing to go adventuring on the road full-time, hiking as we traveled in our last 4 years, climbing rocks, nursing him through his first cancer, saying goodbye to him and thanking him for the love he gifted me with, washing and wrapping him in colorful blankets after he died, and pressing the button to raise the door of the crematorium to admit his body…all of these memories and more are a part of each breath I take in this unwanted life of being without him.

 

Those rings.  His and mine.  Soon now to bless the fingers of our oldest son and his bride.

 

A true legacy of Love~

 

Categories: Widowed, Widowed and Healing, Widowed Milestones, Widowed by Illness, Miscellaneous

About Alison Miller

My beloved husband Chuck died while we were full timing on the road. We’d rented a condo for our stay in southern CA, and I had to leave 3 weeks after his death. All I knew at that time was that I had to find a way to continue traveling on my own, because settling down without him made me break into a cold sweat. I knew that the only place I’d find any connection to Chuck again was out on the roads we’d been traveling for our last 4 years together. I knew nobody out on the road, I knew grief was a great isolator, and I knew I had to change the way I traveled without him, to make it more emotionally bearable for me. So I bought a new car, had a shade of pink customized for it, bought a tiny trailer and painted the trim in pink, learned how to tow and camp, and set out alone. My anxiety was through the roof, and all I knew to trust was the Love that Chuck left behind for me. I found Soaring Spirits early on, thank god, and the connections I made through SS helped ground me to some extent. I needed to know that other widow/ers were out there in my world, because I felt so disoriented and dislocated. Through Soaring Spirits, as the miles added up, my rig taking me north, south, east and west, I found community. I found sanity…or at least I learned that if I was bat shit crazy, I was in good company, and realizing that ultimately saved my sanity. PinkMagic, my rig, is covered with hundreds of names of loved ones sent to me by my widowed community, and I know it isn’t visible to the naked eye, but I’ll let you in on a secret…she actually illuminates Love as I drive down the many roads in our country, and I can see it through my side view mirror. Love does, indeed, live on~

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