A Ring Has No Beginning and (Phew!) No End

When I got married, my ring was a symbol of my love; a circle, never-ending.

But I lost it. The ring didn't fit me, so after a few years of not wearing it -- which was a symbol of something else -- I tried wearing it on my pinkie finger. Look, Dear. I'm wearing my ring again. See? I'm trying to make things work for us.

Then a few years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep on the couch. I woke up. Later I was conscious. That's when I realized the ring had slipped off my finger. I looked under the couch cushions, but blacking out meant I really didn't know where I had lost the ring.

I never said anything to Kathy about it. I don't know if she knew I had lost the symbol of our marriage and our love. Oh well. I felt like the love was lost anyway. The marriage wouldn't last much longer because I kept drinking. She already had seen a divorce attorney.

Somehow, Kathy stuck with me. At last, 16 months ago, I stopped drinking with no relapse on the horizon still. Gradually, Kathy warmed up to me again. I fell in love with her all over again. Our love and our marriage were back on track.

This week I was cleaning. I found my wedding ring in thick dust under the couch recliner. It still shines despite all that it has been through.

My wedding ring again symbolizes never-ending love. Unconditional. To me, it now symbolizes my sobriety and the new life that comes with it.