OK, that is a cliché, but it truly fits this post. Lets take the Way-Back machine to January 1969. Marge and I had planned on closing the sale in December of 1969 but unusual bad weather postponed the ceremony of paper shuffling. So this meant a later moving date as well. We moved early in January 1970 and worked out the short month thing with our realtor for the house on Siegfriedsdale lane. We made the arrangements with a moving company to move us on a Monday and we also planned on renting a medium-sized van to move our own boxed things, smaller items, etc. I rented a van to pick up on Friday night and return it on Saturday. We hoped this would shave a little out of the move’s cost.
Good plan eh? However Friday’s weather was a very snowy day which we had not counted on. Allentown weather is not like Syracuse or even Binghamton but it can get some serious snow on occasions, and this was one of them. None the less, I went to pick up the van after work since, after all, that was the plan. Still snowing in a serious way. I picked up the van and started to drive down Rt. 22 to our home. The road and visibility were bad and I was not used to the truck and did not feel safe so decided to return it. Upon arriving at the rental business, I explained that the weather was too bad and I did not feel safe trying to drive the van. The clerk was not supportive at all and said I had rented the truck, he had nobody wanting one that badly today so I could not get a refund of my payment. Bummer!!!
So, back I go,cautiously, and tell Marge the bad news. She was very understanding and in fact worried about me driving a strange vehicle in bad weather. The movers came on Monday and we made the move out of PA Dutch country to big city Allentown. To Coopersburg, a suburb of Allentown. That went without incident except, except this: Somewhere, I think on Friday, I had lost my wedding ring. Most likely, it was due to taking my gloves on and off that evening. I hunted all through my clothes, my car, etc. but it was lost. It was a plain gold band and easily replaced, but I had worn it almost 10 years now and was very upset about losing it. That was the last time I ever did that.
I wore the same ring until summer of last year when I finally realized that I was now widowed, not married any more, and the symbolism of the band was not correct. I finally replaced it with a yellow gold dress ring that Marge had given me on a special birthday in Las Vegas decades ago. I may have mentioned this before and even doing the replacement was depressing for some weeks. Now though, I realize it was the right thing to do. My left ring finger still feels the ring and just looking down it reminds me of the wonderful time I had with Marge on that birthday so long ago.
The original wedding ring was a symbol of us two young single people joining together in marriage and an important part of the whole ceremony. The ring I replaced shortly after moving to PA was not the original of course, but it continued the symbolism of us being joined together. The Las Vegas ring I am now wearing is a symbol or our continued life together then for 20 years. We were now mature adults, with a deeper understanding of each other and a joint wish to please our partner. How exciting it was to find still something new about each other. That memory will be with me until the end of my own days. The left hand ring now reminds me of the pleasant times we did enjoy together. I miss her. YEAH!