January 17, 2026
An Old Table and the Lost Rings
This old table sits between our recliners in
the living room. It’s worn, scratched, and carries every scar of its long life.
But I don’t mind one bit— because this table was my mother’s and it has
traveled around the family for years. It stood proudly in her living room long
before I ever married, shiny and new back then, holding its own among all the
other furniture.
One night, long ago and far away, I was
staying with my parents while Mr. D was working in Tennessee. I stayed up late
watching television, and at some point I slipped off my rings and set them in
an ashtray—a clean ashtray, mind you. Daddy was a smoker, so ashtrays were just
part of the scenery in those days. The sad part is, I went to bed and forgot
all about my rings.
Early the next morning, before the sun was
even up, Daddy—who didn’t see very well—emptied the ashtray. And just like
that, my rings went out with the trash.
By the time I was awake long enough to
realize they were missing, the garbage truck had already come and gone. My
rings were on their way to the city dump, never to be seen again. My heart was
broken. {{sigh}}
Thank goodness my wedding rings weren’t in
that tray. I’ve often wondered about the “what‑if” of it all… what if my
wedding bands had been in that ashtray? I was one of those young brides who
vowed never to take them off. I was such a romantic in those days. 😊
Still, the rings I lost were special. One was
a gift from the parents of my best friend, and the other was a little diamond
ring I treasured—though not nearly as much as the rings Mr. D placed on my
finger.
Of course, life happens… and so does weight gain. Lol. Eventually even my wedding rings came off and now rest safely in a little white box with the rest of my special treasures.
The love those rings represent is still alive and growing after 63 years🩷
Ahhhh… maybe I am still a romantic
after all.
Until Next Time
