The past few weekends The Deistette and I have been working for my sister in-law at a wedding facility she manages. She was short handed at the last minute one weekend so we agreed to help her out. Well, that one weekend has turned into four. I shouldn’t complain. I mean the extra money has been nice but because it’s about an hour away from us so it makes for a pretty long day.
It’s a neat venue for having a wedding. They do the ceremony in a small garden-like area that can accommodate about 150 people. The couple does their thing in a gazebo to exchange vows and afterward everyone heads into the reception hall about 30 feet away.
A couple of hours into the reception, someone will start putting away the chairs and decorations from the ceremony. Last weekend that someone was me. Ugh. There I stood looking at a hundred wooden folding chairs thinking, “holy crap it’s humid out here.” It took me about 40 minutes and two trips to load them onto a flatbed cart, wheel them to the storage area and unload them. Afterward I went back into the reception hall and started picking up plates, restocking items in the kitchen, breaking down the bar, then other clean up. It was pretty much non-stop until we left.
Ugh… when we left. That’s when I realized that I’d lost my ring… my wedding ring. God I was sick. I took it off when I started putting away the chairs because I didn’t want it to get smashed or cut into my fingers ’cause I was sure my hands would start swelling as I was putting them away.
After telling The Deistette about my lost ring, I called my sister in-law while we drove home. My sister in-law had already left the venue but said she would take a look the next day.
Well, she didn’t go in like she thought she would on Sunday and wouldn’t be there until Monday afternoon. I was sure I had put it in the pocket of the vest I was wearing so it would have to be in the washing machine — unless it fell out while I had been putting the chairs away. Holy crap. 😦
She didn’t call until about 5:00 Monday evening. She said she was sorry but she couldn’t find it and she had looked everywhere she thought it might be.
The next day I checked my pants again and again. I checked the floorboard of the car, under the mats, under the seats. I checked around the driveway where we park. Nothing, nothing, nothing and nothing.
I don’t think I’ve ever really delved into the details of my spiritual beliefs other than what I have in the title of this blog and the two tabs about the beliefs of a deist and UU. Not to get into a long treatise about it but I will say part of my spiritual practice includes prayer — and not like praying to win the lottery or praying for the healing of a loved one. Just prayers of thanks is mostly what I have in my bag of prayers.
But that night, as Emmie fell asleep and I lay there in the dark… against everything I believe about prayer, I prayed my ass off that my ring would somehow make its way back to me. I prayed that I would relive in my dreams the events of when I put it away. I begged my memory not to fail me any longer and give me even the slightest hint where it might be. I rolled over and touched Emmie’s hand where she wears her ring and fell asleep.
The next day when I got back home from work, Emmie told me she found my guitar capo. It had been banging around in the dryer while she was doing our laundry. The night before I had been looking all over for it before heading off to band rehearsal but couldn’t find it. Then she said, “look what else I found.” And put my wedding ring in my hand.
I was stunned. All I could do was hug her. And believe it or not, I cried. I was so happy to have it again. And in a really sweet, whispering, sort of lilting way she said, “you have your magic ring back.”
She said it must have been in my shirt. I don’t know. I swear I checked every pocket I had twice. Who knows, maybe it was in my shirt pocket or maybe it fell into the cuff of my pants leg.
I’ve called it my magic ring for a while saying it keeps me and The Deistette connected. I usually say it within ear shot of my stepson but being 7 years old he’s getting to an age where he doesn’t really believe in magic anymore. The tooth fairy, Easter bunny and Santa Claus have kinda had their day for him.
I don’t know.
What I do know is one day I didn’t have my magic ring and now I do. Maybe there is something to that prayer thing after all — or maybe my ring is magic and keeps me and my wife connected after all.