Missing

I remember the day very clearly: It was December 23, 2008. The temperature never got above 0 degrees F. And yet I had the bright idea to do some holiday shopping at an outdoor mall. (I blame David. The expedition started as a mission to get him some snow boots, and from there it exploded into a full-blown present-hunting trip at Old Orchard.)

I don't know how many times I took my gloves off and put them back on again as we traversed between the freezing sidewalks and over-warm department stores. During one of those transitions, unbeknownst to me, my wedding ring slipped right off. I realized it about half an hour after we left the mall, and by then the ring was gone for good.

That ring, like Airan's, was a simple gold band, nothing fancy. I bought the set in a rushed frenzy, mere weeks before the wedding, while Airan was off gallivanting around the Pacific Northwest with Isabelle Haze. It was a utilitarian ring, pulled into service on short notice and considered to be a place-holder until we got around to finding rings we really liked.

Somehow, I managed to not lose that placeholder ring for eleven and a half years. And despite the fact that it was always a stand-in for some prettier, grander ring I planned to get someday, I find I'd grown rather attached to it. I'm wearing my engagement ring on that finger now, but I'm still occasionally caught off guard when I realize the ring isn't there. I'm gripped with panic all over again -- My ring! Where is it? And then I remember; it's long gone.