It's time to polish my ring again. It's a simple task; just a circle of braided silver bands secured with gold x"s symbolizing love.
I bought it five years ago. The week after my life changed unalterably forever. Looking back, it was a strange thing to do in the midst of such grief. But I didn't want to forget those past four years of pain both for myself and the one who had shared my life and love.
I had seen the ring in a jewelry counter before he left, and when I gazed at it, I thought, "That ring reminds me of all the people who have been part of our lives during life's final journey these difficult days, weeks and months."
There are only six bands of silver entwined on the ring, but there were many more loving hands who guided us daily. I didn't want to forget any of them.
Now five years later as I start polishing the thin silver bands, I begin to remember all of them.
There was a rainy Christmas Eve when an entire family traveled down from another state to spend a few hours with us. Things didn't go well that day; the holiday food that had been ordered in an attempt to inject festivity didn't arrive; the weather was a concern, and the one they came to visit was visibly failing, but they came and gave their time and love to both of us. As I begin to polish the first strand of silver, I remember all of them, and wish I had been able to prevent the distance that separates us today.
The second band of silver seems larger although it isn't. Possibly because it reminds me of three others who made that final leg of our journey together easier to bear.
One flew in regularly on the red eye from the west coast, the other arrived often with his young son who cared so deeply for his Grandfather, and the third was the always faithful daughter who seemed to weave in and out of our lives constantly without fanfare.
I polish the gold x's and remember the love they all gave at a time when I was unable to return any. When my world was so all consuming that I was unable to look beyond my narrow boundary of despair.
The ring is beginning to sparkle again despite the lack of any precious stones. Perhaps the memory of those whose names I no longer recall, but whose physical and emotional support provided as easy a transition as possible is adding to its glow.
The young Doctor who was at the bedside that last morning so my love did not make the final trip alone. The faithful aid who came until the last trip to the hospital, the young woman who invited me to dine with her all the evenings I returned to an empty house. They all come to mind as I finish polishing the ring.
It's completed now. And as I return the ring to my finger, I no longer think it was a frivolous purchase at such a turning point in my life. It has truly served its purpose. Each day as I put it on in the morning and remove it in the evening, I say a silent prayer of gratitude for those whose loving presence made that unavoidable journey of life easier.
