Gold isn't my thing. Actually, let me clarify: in the debate between gold or silver, I prefer silver. It suits me. It fits me. I simply prefer the color of it--steely and gray--over gold--yellowing and ruddy. Does this mean that if someone were to offer me a nugget of gold, a golden chain, a ring of gold that I would turn it down based solely on its color? No, of course not. It's just that, left up to me and my devices, all my jewelry would be in the silver color family.
I must interject here to tell you dear reader that two of my most precious pieces of jewelry are yellow gold--my wedding and engagement ring. They are real as are the tiny diamonds set within them; however, they are admittingly worth more to me in sentiment than in cash. In September of 2006, my wonderful husband presented me with an "upgraded" band--an anniversary band to celebrate our 5th--of white gold, thick and sturdy, with a considerable (in my eyes) amount of diamonds flatly laid within it. I loved it! I wear it to this day with pride in place of my wedding band set simply because the solitaire in the original sits quite high (it's the mount NOT the size of the diamond) and catches on things including my babies, so it isn't the safest ring for a mommy to wear. So for the past four years my fingers have been home to one ring--in the silver color family. The yellow gold tucked safely away in my hiding spot.
Today, however, I will again adorn my finger with yellow gold. And I will wear it proudly and at the same time humbly for the next 365 days. The ring finger of my left hand will be home to Steve's worn and scratched, terribly simple, yellow gold wedding band, with my anniversary band placed on "top" of it to protect it from falling off.
It may shock the senses of some to think that my husband left for a war zone for a year without taking his wedding ring and that I almost seem to celebrate that fact by proudly wearing it. Let them be shocked. His decision not to wear it has never had a thing to do with a lack of trust, in fact, it's quite the opposite. I could say, without lying, that working with weapons, and in rough terrain, and in the midst of battle are all good, and logical, and practical reasons for wearing no jewelry at all, other than one's dog tags. And they are amongst the lesser of his reasons for not wearing it downrange. But the real reason is much deeper than that. I love the fact that when we said our last goodbyes, he lovingly placed his ring on my finger for safe keeping and in doing so it was a small moment in which we both could relive quietly and to ourselves the promises we made to each other nine years ago at our wedding. However brief that moment was, it was a beautiful one in which I have never trusted nor loved him more.
It will never quite FEEL right wearing two rings on that one finger, but everytime the awkwardness of it catches ahold of me, it reminds me not only of him but of how life will always have moments of awkwardness and discomfort, yet we must trudge on. Every time he looks down at his hand and sees that worn area where the ring should be, every time he goes to fumble or play with it mindlessly (as he often does) and realizes it's missing, he will be reminded not only of me but of how those we love leave indelible, permanent markers on us for eternity and how we can take them for granted yet miss them terribly when they are no longer there.
So for the next year, I will gladly and happily done a piece of gold jewelry. Even if it looks funny. Even if it feels funny. Even if I wish the original owner would claim it personally and let me see him wearing it. This I can bear...and I will.