I also wanted to take my ring off because we had just moved into a new home in a new neighborhood and meeting neighbors at the parks, pool and just strolling around was almost an everyday occurrence. I didn’t want people to assume I was married. I didn’t want the questions that went along with that assumption. They’d ask me about my husband, when “we” moved here, where he worked, where “we” were from. I wasn’t ready to tell everybody I met that my husband had just died. Then I’d have to deal with their sad and shocked faces and dreaded follow up questions. I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t figured out how to tell people that he died by suicide without crumbling into a ball of tears as the words fell out of my mouth. So I took my ring off in an attempt to keep people at a distance and their questions at bay.
My finger felt remarkably empty without my wedding ring on. I’d look down at my hand expecting to see it or I would move my thumb over to twirl it and there was nothing there, except the indention of where it once was. My naked finger was a reminder of my vulnerability and the uncertainty of my future. But still, I decided that I needed to navigate this new reality without being bound to the promises that my wedding ring once represented.
Then, on my last birthday, I received a ring as a gift. At that time, it had been 14 months since Chuck’s death and I felt like I was finally coming into my own as a person, as a woman, and as a solo parent. I was finally able to talk about my grief more openly and about Chuck’s suicide more affirmatively. I didn’t think I wanted to wear another ring, but as soon as I put the new ring on, it felt like home. The ring was an emerald, my birthstone.
This new ring filled a physical void on my finger, but it has also helped to serve as a daily reminder of my rebirth – my identity outside of marriage and widowhood, and my beckoning future.
Becky, Thank you for writing this and sharing it.
Becky’s story hit home for me. I lost Kathy one year ago. Becky’s story reminded me of the painful process of dealing with all her things. I have her ring and mine in a drawer and I do not know what to do with them. They are reminders I cannot deal with for some of the same reasons Becky stated. The loss of your spouse is devastating.
My husband died by suicide 2 1/2 years ago…taking off my wedding ring was so hard for me to do. I wear it from time to time (on my right hand) when I am missing my husband more than usual or feeling empty. Thank you for sharing your story…it’s the first “wedding” ring story that I really related to. Thank you again.
Tom took his life at the end of June. We divorced in January but remained best friends. His bipolar disorder and spending habits were just too hard to take. I found Tom’s wedding ring in the safe. It felt weird holding it and feeling the weight of it. It’s also hard because I can’t even get a bereavement day to attend his memorial service because he is my ex-spouse. We were together for 20 years, but he wanted the divorce to save me from his debts.
My husband, that I lost about 6 weeks ago, also had serious debts, We’d seperated all our finances, and tho we weren’t sperated legally (or in our hearts.. .) I was out of state, living with my mom who’d broken her hand & couldn’t drive.
When he was found there was 900 dollars in his wallet, but no wedding ring was to be found. It kills me that he must have thought that selling it would help me more than having & knowing where his ring went.
I am not yet dealing with my grief well at all. But there is so much to DO.
I’m scared of the day I don’t have to fax a death certificate or talk to the VA or…. whatever. The day there is nothing left to keep me from feeling too much & falling apart.
My husband took his life 4 weeks ago and the grief is overwhelming. I am giving my wedding ring to my daughter so she can remember her dad and keep the ring alive. It feels right to me.