Rings on My Fingers

Today I am grateful for long-time and new friends in recovery. I am also grateful for my husband Darcy.

Besides taking things like air to breathe and my five working senses for granted, there are numerous items I take for granted. Those include the computer I am currently using, the coffee pot that made my first cups of the day already, and the recliner I am sitting in. Also included are the rings I put on my fingers each morning.

I grew up an athletic tomboy, not a girlie-girl. I hated wearing dresses. I kept (and still do keep) my hair short to keep it simple. I rarely wear make-up. I didn't get my ears pierced until I was well into my twenties. And I didn't ever wear rings on my fingers. That is, until I was 32 and got engaged. I'm a late bloomer in many respects and wearing rings is one of them.

Now I am up to 5 rings. All but one were gifts to me from my husband Darcy. The other one was an antique store find. And there's the one that got away. The ring I lost shortly after Darcy gave it to me . . . it was a little loose, I wasn't used to wearing it, then it was gone.

The rings are important to me and they are significant symbols. But it is what they symbolize that is the most important-our love and our commitment to one another. They are one of the last things I put on when I get ready in the morning and one of the first to come off when I get back home. Many days that is just part of the routine and I don't think of their significance.

Today I will think of Darcy and our healthy marriage as I put those rings on. And I will feel deeply blessed.

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