Something Worth Turning Around For...Every Time
I take my wedding ring off when I shower. I don't know why I do that. I take it off and set it right here, on the shelf, and then when I'm all toweled off good... teeth brushed, and face shaven, etc...I slip it back on. No worries, no exact explanation. It's just what I do.
My ring's resting place each and every morning...
Here's the funny part...sometimes I forget it there. Sometimes I get dressed, grab a coffee, head out the door, and drive away before I realize that I haven't got it on my finger. That's when I turn the car around and sneak back into the drive. I duck back into the house, snatch the ring from it's inauspicious resting place, slip it back on that empty digit and get on my busy way back to work. I do, I turn around and come home to get it. Why? I love it that much.
The story of our engagement, and our marriage, is fun to tell. Both occurred fairly spontaneously, I mean, as spontaneously as anything possibly can be given the notion that both were inevitable. I asked June to marry me on Sutter Street in San Francisco. We were walking home from North Beach and we wandered down past the TransAmerica Building and across downtown headed back to Union Square. We stopped, kind of randomly, to take a timed photo on the street. June propped the camera up on a garbage pail and as she was setting the timer the notion struck me, "I'm going to ask her to marry me." So I did. She said yes, after some pause to make room for the surprise of it all. We slipped off to Tiffany's down in Union Square the very next day and picked out a ring. We looked foolish in our jeans and flip-flops, felt even more foolish when the clerk pulled out a $26,000 ring, and left acting like absolute champions when we found just the right ring and walked home with a robin's egg blue bag in tow.
The infamous proposal photo, June 10, 2006...two seconds later and we were engaged.
We were married in New York City, two years ago this past September. We hustled to get our asses down to City Hall to apply for a license before the office closed. We spent our requisite 24 hr waiting period by doing all of those little things that a wedding requires...hair, clothes, $50 Brooks Brothers Irish linen handkerchiefs...and then said, "I do," with just one witness and all of New York to celebrate with. June bought my ring at the Tiffany's on Madison Avenue just the day before, and that afternoon I became a husband for the first and only time in my relatively unencumbered life...that ring...the one I take off and set on the shelf beneath the medicine cabinet each morning...that ring I sometimes to forget to put back on my finger and so turn around and drive home to get it. I love that ring.
Married with no children...yet. Give us a little time - NYC, Sept 28th, 2007
Now, two full years later and Zoey likes to play with my ring, that same ring that I set on the shelf beneath the medicine cabinet...that same ring that made me a husband and which in turn made me a father. It's pretty easy to understand why I turn around to get it when I've forgotten it, isn't it?
My ring's resting place each and every morning...
Here's the funny part...sometimes I forget it there. Sometimes I get dressed, grab a coffee, head out the door, and drive away before I realize that I haven't got it on my finger. That's when I turn the car around and sneak back into the drive. I duck back into the house, snatch the ring from it's inauspicious resting place, slip it back on that empty digit and get on my busy way back to work. I do, I turn around and come home to get it. Why? I love it that much.
The story of our engagement, and our marriage, is fun to tell. Both occurred fairly spontaneously, I mean, as spontaneously as anything possibly can be given the notion that both were inevitable. I asked June to marry me on Sutter Street in San Francisco. We were walking home from North Beach and we wandered down past the TransAmerica Building and across downtown headed back to Union Square. We stopped, kind of randomly, to take a timed photo on the street. June propped the camera up on a garbage pail and as she was setting the timer the notion struck me, "I'm going to ask her to marry me." So I did. She said yes, after some pause to make room for the surprise of it all. We slipped off to Tiffany's down in Union Square the very next day and picked out a ring. We looked foolish in our jeans and flip-flops, felt even more foolish when the clerk pulled out a $26,000 ring, and left acting like absolute champions when we found just the right ring and walked home with a robin's egg blue bag in tow.
The infamous proposal photo, June 10, 2006...two seconds later and we were engaged.
We were married in New York City, two years ago this past September. We hustled to get our asses down to City Hall to apply for a license before the office closed. We spent our requisite 24 hr waiting period by doing all of those little things that a wedding requires...hair, clothes, $50 Brooks Brothers Irish linen handkerchiefs...and then said, "I do," with just one witness and all of New York to celebrate with. June bought my ring at the Tiffany's on Madison Avenue just the day before, and that afternoon I became a husband for the first and only time in my relatively unencumbered life...that ring...the one I take off and set on the shelf beneath the medicine cabinet each morning...that ring I sometimes to forget to put back on my finger and so turn around and drive home to get it. I love that ring.
Married with no children...yet. Give us a little time - NYC, Sept 28th, 2007
Now, two full years later and Zoey likes to play with my ring, that same ring that I set on the shelf beneath the medicine cabinet...that same ring that made me a husband and which in turn made me a father. It's pretty easy to understand why I turn around to get it when I've forgotten it, isn't it?
1 Comments:
It's funny how naked you can feel when the ring is off.
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