About Moxie Girl Musings

Moxie Girl Musings is about starting over from square one after tragedy impacted my young family. It's filled with stories of triumph, struggle, snafus, hopes, and dreams. Sometimes there will be features from other writers that I like and every so often I'll include an original short story, but normally I simply write what's on my mind at the time. Welcome to my unfiltered true-life story as I figure out this thing called life. http://www.amberleaeaston.com

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

My Wedding Ring

Well, my wedding ring has been a source of roller coaster emotion since my husband's death. After the first year, I took it off because I felt I "should". Then I would put it on again here and there when I felt I needed it. I then thought this was a crutch of some kind so I gave my wedding ring set to my daughter, who is only 13. She lost part of the set! Wow, did that send me over the edge. But that loss made me think, "why am I so torn up by this ring? Why am I attaching sorrow to something so beautiful?"

This isn't just any hunk of gold, no wedding ring given in love is ever "just a ring". For so long, I viewed it as a symbol of broken promises and shattered plans. Trust me. Grief coupled with trauma is like being tossed around in a hurricane of confusion and sorrow. Attaching emotion to the ring enabled me to lash out on something physical. After all, my husband had died and I didn't have the luxury of one more final argument. The ring became my target.

Now I am wearing my wedding ring set and anniversary band on my right hand ring finger. I love seeing it there and it doesn't make me sad at all. Instead it reminds me of the love I shared with a handsome man who thought I was the be all and end all. It is not a crutch either. I am still moving on with my life. I am able to flirt with the best of them. I laugh more often than cry. And I can look down at my right hand and know that I am no longer hiding my past.

Just like the word widow no longer bothers me, neither does showing the world that yes, I loved and lost but still honor the journey. It took me four years to be able to wear this ring on my right hand--maybe that's a long time for some, or perhaps it isn't a big deal to anyone else at all---but for me this was the appropriate time. After all, it's the most beautiful piece of jewelry I own so why keep it hidden? And right hand diamond rings are in vogue, right?

Sorrow clouded my appreciation of the love I enjoyed for years. Merely thinking of the man would cause waves of loneliness to crush me. It feels good to be able to say "I really loved my husband and am so happy for the time we shared" without crying, without feeling morbid or viewing it as a sign of moving backward. I believe it is quite the opposite.

Within hours of Sean's death, my pastor told me that grief is like being on a boat in a stormy sea. She said we need to stay the course and ride out the waves knowing that a calm harbor waited in the distance. It may have taken me four years, but I am steering my boat into that calm harbor. The sails may be torn, but this boat still floats. And my right hand ring perfectly catches the sunlight.


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