Rings and Things

While I was taking a break from writing there were still ideas buzzing round my head, a constant narrative explaining my thoughts and actions.

I’ve always been a person who likes to explain things, it’s just how I was made but it can leave me tied up in knots and exhausted.

When I was away on my holiday at Scargill House my most hated part was explaining that I was a widow. I found it traumatic to retell my story so many times (you can read my post about it here).

Over the next few weeks I made a huge decision to stop wearing my wedding and engagement rings. However I still wear my eternity ring on my right hand where it has always been as a symbol of the bond Andrew and I share forever.

“’Til death do us part” was the contract therefore I am no longer married and that throws up all kinds of emotions. Do I still feel married? Do I feel single? Where is my place in the world of relationships?

Wearing a wedding ring symbolises being in a relationship, a partnership, togetherness and I always knew I would remove it one day most likely when I was ready to embark on a quest for a new husband. I would love to be married again but I honestly don’t know how I would feel if a single man paid me any attention in that respect.

But somehow that’s OK. The rings are off and I am open to whatever happens, whoever comes my way. A friend has recommended another dating service for me to try, she’s met a wonderful man and I’m happy for her. However I feel it’s not the right time for me to look.

Last week at New Wine there were opportunities to share with other people and I could have easily unburdened my heart once more explaining I was a widow. Instead I chose to say I was a single parent.

There were no questions asked, people can think I am in any number of situations and suddenly I didn’t feel the need to explain. I don’t wear a wedding ring, I have two children and it’s now unimportant what others think of my relationship status.

It’s a large weight off my mind and a way for me to be me without the baggage of being widowed being the first thing people see.

There is one more thought I had about rings in those non-writing days, I remembered the tree being cut down and seeing the rings inside exposed. One for every year, a mark of growth, some close together and some spread further apart a sign of the lean years contrasting with the years of abundant growth.

Rings Together Forever

My own wedding ring fits perfectly inside Andrew’s, an image perhaps of Andrew’s love and protection around me or on the other hand the barriers and restrictions placed on my life by marriage?

There’s both good and bad in everything.

Maybe for me the good now is that I am less judgemental of single parents, I confess I’ve not always been kind or gracious in my thinking. Now they are the group I identify most with.

God smiles down in triumph once again – I am learning to love and accept in extraordinary ways.

Meanwhile my ring finger still bears a slight mark, a reminder of all that has gone before, just like the rings in a tree counting the years, the blessings and now cut down and open I can clearly see all that has been lost.