A Ring In Time

Hubby and I are married 30 years this year and we are uncharacteristically excited and eager to celebrate. We’ve decided we are going to pick 30 things to do this year that will commemorate our time together.  Some are big things, some are little things, some things are romantic, some are whimsical and some are just standard fare.  One of the first things we wanted to figure out was what to do about our wedding rings. We could each still get our rings on, but they were tighter than was comfortable and we were reluctant about wearing them.  This resulted in the rings taking up permanent residents in our bedroom closet for the past few years. Each time I went past them, each time I thought about them, it made me sad. 

The rings themselves are exquisite.  We bought cheap gold bands for the actual wedding ceremony because, at the time, we had a lot on our plate and didn’t want to make a hurried decision about our wedding rings. This was one of the best moves we ever made because it allowed us to meander through the first several years of our marriage, looking at rings whenever we had time, whenever we were away, just plain whenever. Sure enough, on one romantic weekend get-a-way on Martha’s Vineyard, we found the rings of our dreams. They are called Milky Way and are, loosely speaking, the design of a galaxy, patterned with tiny moons, Goddesses and minuscule diamonds that twinkle like stars throughout the band. The rings also have a raised edge that borders the galaxy and adds definition. We loved them the minute we saw them, and, although they were way more than we could afford, but we bought them anyway. That was more than twenty years ago and, still, they are the most beautiful wedding rings I have ever seen. Except, of course, if you can’t wear them. 

And, ever since the size dilemma, Hubs and I have had the same few dead-end conversations about these rings.  For instance, feel free to laugh, but somehow, with zero knowledge of jewelry, we decided the rings couldn’t be made larger and therefore having them sized was not an option. It seemed to us that there was no way to cut the rings, or stretch them or do whatever they do to increase the size of a ring without interrupting the Milky Way pattern.  There was also a conversation where we considered being buried with the rings, except neither of us wants to be buried, which was the major kink in that plan. We talked about melting them down and doing I’m not sure what with them, but neither of us could bear that option because we loved them so much and just the thought of that made me so, so sad. We considered leaving them to one or two of the children when we pass away, which effectively would make them someone else’s problem, and also did not seem like any kind of an actual solution. I’m telling you, no small amount of thought went into these conversations, at the end of which, I was always sad and deflated. I just wanted to wear my wedding ring. 

But, you know how these things go. You can endure something for a long time and then suddenly you can’t take it one minute longer and doing something becomes almost urgent. So, Hubs and I had yet another conversation about the rings and we decided that, it was time to be grown-ups about the rings. No more dead end, circular conversations.  If we couldn’t wear them, there was no sense in hanging on to them. And, after all, this is the year of our 30th anniversary, and we wanted to be wearing our wedding rings, so we decided we would look into getting them sized and, if this was not possible, we would melt them down and use the money to buy new rings. This was the best of the worst options because we still wanted rings that were special and unique.  We couldn’t see ourselves going to a Jared-type-jewelry store (no offense to Jared’s) and buying something out of the case.  Thirty years later, even more adamantly than back in 1990, we wanted our wedding rings to symbolize us, not just the union, the sacristy of marriage, but who WE are. Thirty years. That number kept playing through my head. Thirty-years of for better and for worse. 

Enter Amy Ragsdale. I have known Amy Ragsdale for over twenty years. She is a jewelry designer who makes hand crafted one of a kind pieces and some of my best pieces are from her studio. I have always known that Amy’s art, the craft of creating signature jewelry was more than a talent for her. Amy’s work always felt more like a spiritual expression, a gift she gives to the world. Life being what it is, she and I hadn’t spoken for a few years, largely because it is hard to keep in touch when you are launching children, moving, changing jobs, burying loved ones and otherwise tending to life. Now, however, with this new dilemma, with time being of the essence, I was eager to call Amy and get what I knew would be the real deal on the rings. [Editor’s note: Just to be clear, while this is not an ad for Amy Ragsdale Design, you should totally check out her website which you can find here.  Feel free to PM me if you want to know my personal favorite pieces.]

So, one stormy Saturday morning, we drove our wedding rings out to Amy’s studio in the suburbs of Philadelphia. We tell her our whole story, we present the rings, we tell her they are precious to us, but we also say we are willing to let them go if we have to let them go. She holds her hand out so I can place the rings in her hand, but I am not done with my explanation. I want to be sure, before I hand over the rings, that she gets the angst of it all. 

 “We’re WILLING for them to not be sizeable,” I say, “BUT, it is just that it took us years to find them. And it’s our THIRTIETH anniversary. And we are really willing for you to tell us it can’t be done, but, here’s the deal, we want you to work your magic and make them the right size.” 

“I got it,” she assures me. “Let’s measure you and see what size you need the rings to be, leave them with me and I’ll see what I can do. No promises, but let me see what I can do.” 

One week later, Amy called to say the rings were done. I wasn’t 100% sure what “done” meant and I was way too nervous to ask. I told myself if they were really compromised, Amy would have mentioned that. THEN I told myself, that if they were really compromised, Amy never would have mentioned that. She would wait until we were in front of her to prepare us. We assured each other that, if we hated the rings, we could STILL melt them down for the price of the gold. We told each other that we were making WAY too much out of the thirty-year mark, that this is the kind of thing that is a set up for disappointment and, after all, there is always the next year. It seems like just yesterday that we celebrated our twenty-fifth! Whatever, we told ourselves. 

Once again, we packed up and drove out to the studio. We talked about the rings the entire way out there and suddenly I could get what it felt like to be young and in love. During our courtship, Hubby and I were both single parents who each had full time custody of our children. I was finishing my undergraduate degree, preparing to go to grad school. We got married the summer between graduating with my bachelors’ and beginning my masters’ degree largely because managing our lives in separate residences no longer seemed possible. I couldn’t see how I could get the kids up and out early in the morning, while worrying about evening classes and homework, not to mention the commute to Rutgers. Hubby, who was eager to get married and looking for any reason to tie the proverbial knot, proposed that the only solid solution was marriage. So, when Hubby and I got married, we had five children between the ages of two and twelve years old. Suffice to say, there was never any young-and-in-love. We were young-feeling-old-and-somehow-in-love. It was a ridiculous and downright heroic move, but we did it. We just jumped in, got married and here we are thirty years later. 

 Anticipating the rings, the unveiling of the rings, the deciding about if we would keep them or not, felt like a restorative event. Maybe we didn’t get to mull over every detail of our backyard garden wedding thirty years ago, but we are now mulling over every detail of how we want to celebrate our thirtieth year together, which is why this decision about the rings is so important to us.  This is a time for us to really be mindful of our lives together.  Marriage, I don’t care who you are or how happily married you are, is a roller coaster. You hope to get more good days than bad days, you hope to love your spouse more days that you hate them, but it is all such a crap shoot. I am telling you, that for better and for worse stuff? We all say that, or something like that, but it isn’t until you are knee deep in kids, pets, health concerns, job losses, bills and conflict that you know exactly what worse can look like.  But, this year, this milestone is giving us the space to create some of those moments that we might have missed, but were too busy to have even known we missed them. 

We arrive at the studio and we can barely wait to see the rings. Amy takes them out of a little white bag, unwraps the tissue paper and lays the rings in front of us. They are magnificent! You cannot tell that they were sized at all! They look exactly like they did the day we got them – bright, shinny, brand new! 

“I cannot believe you did it,” I say, looking bewildered. 

“Well, to tell you the truth, it was a little dicey. I took it to my soldering team who looked at me like I was crazy. They made me no promises, but I told them to do the best they could and I would work out the engraving and all the rest. I have to say, they were really shocked at how well they turned out in the end.” 

“It’s like a miracle.  I love it when you take something that is impossible and make it not only possible, but predictable!” I said. 

Hubs and I kept looking at them from all angles, putting them on and taking them off over and over. The traditional symbolism of wedding rings is a representation of ongoing love, commitment and loyalty to each other. For me, our rings, wedding rings in general, represent every piece of life that a couple will endure together and the miracle it is that couples choose to stay together. There are so many choices that came our way throughout the years. There were so many times being married seemed like such a dumb idea. There were so many times I dreamt of what I might have done if I had not married Hubby, if I had chosen to travel, if I had taken a corporate job, if I had…well, you get it. The list goes on. But, in the end, here we are, married 30 years, wearing our precious wedding rings, thinking that saying “I do” thirty years ago was the single smartest decision we ever made. Go figure.