Little Anchor

We recently went to a jeweller to have my wedding ring cut off… a spell of dehydration caused some water retention that turned my fingies into nice pork sausages.

The idea of cutting it caused me some heartache and anxiety, which is silly (I know). It was very uncomfortable and somewhat painful. We knew we had to cut it off before it became an “emergency” situation, so we did.

I had put it off as long as I could, hoping we would not have to damage it. The hesitation was not only because of the sentimental value. My hand being bare for a couple of weeks and a slight alteration in the ring’s make up was in no way going to have any detrimental effects on to our relationship.

Although I sometimes need physical token to remind me to do certain things. A sticky note to remind me to do a task or an alarm to be on time for an appointment. I don’t need to have my wedding ring to remind me to love the man I gave my heart to because that just comes naturally.

The first couple of days my hand looked and felt weird. It didn’t have any significant effect on my every day life, but it’s absence made me sad. It was only the day or so after the ring was gone that I realised why…

Since I physically could not get it off my stubby finger, the small band of white gold and diamond that lives on my ring finger, had been with me through EVERYTHING. It was on me when the first symptoms showed up. It was on me during the first MRI scan and the diagnosis. It was on me during every hospital visit, theatre trip, radiation session and follow up appointment. It was on me when the next milestone seemed impossible to reach. It was on me during the period of victories.

Without consciously deciding to do so I used my ring as a bit of a security blanket and a fidget toy. A little anchor to bring me back into the present. It gave me something to focus my fingers on while I worked on reigning my thoughts and emotions in.

It was a little constant during a very blurry and changing period of time. A tangible reminder of the unbreakable support system I have been fortunate enough to have on my journey. A silent prompt to assist in keeping my heart thankful and my chin up even during the hardest and most uncertain moments.

I think maybe I needed to be without for a bit to remind me that ring itself wasn’t the anchor. And its brief holiday didn’t mean I was removed from my real Anchor. It was still, as it had always been, just a physical representation of the intangible.

The true Constant never let go of my hand. My unwavering Comforter continued to support me. The One who holds me up, when I falter in strength or error, still fuels my gratitude as He wills the breath in my lungs and the beat of my heart daily. Nothing could or would change that.