Leroy put a ring on it many years ago.   It was a beautiful singular diamond and he chose it because he said it was like the one his Dad gave his Mom.

It was the one and only ring on my fourth, left finger for a very long time.

When we finally decided to get married (he was already pretty sick)  he asked me to go to the safe deposit box and bring home a tiny leather pouch.  When he pulled on those leather strings out tumbled some beautiful lapis stones.  The blue of the lapis was streaked with yellow veins. He’d carried them home from Venezuela many years before with one purpose in mind: they would be used for our wedding rings.

We found the perfect jewelry maker who designed rings that cradled the lapis perfectly.  They were unique just as we were to each other.

One night when Leroy was clearly feeling his cancer had progressed to a dangerous place, he talked about his ring and where he wanted it to go after he was gone.  It was a very serious conversation.

It will be 6 years and 3 months to the day, tomorrow, that I’ve been wearing his ring next to mine.

It’s even more important to me tonight, because for the last couple of days I haven’t had the ring on my hand.  After so many hand washings, showers, days in the garden and who knows what else, the lapis had fallen out of his ring.  Thankfully there was more of this precious stone and it’s now been replaced and polished and is back where it belongs: balancing the fourth finger on my left hand.

Actually, it’s balancing more than that.

 

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