I stare at women and wonder if they’re married. Everyone needs a hobby. I stood behind a woman at Duncan Donuts the other day and she was so annoyingly bubbly I knew I’d see a ring on her finger.
As her wedding band taunted me I consoled myself with, “At least her manicure is dull and lifeless.”
My view isn’t that married people are happier. I’m not delusional. Married people are lighter. Sharing the load of life with someone frees us to hum silly songs and whistle favorite tunes as we skip down the street like Mary Poppins.
Don’t get me wrong – I’ve never been a hummer or a whistler or a skipper. I’ve giggled uncontrollably but that usually involved an illegal substance. More recently, I sigh. I hear a long drawn out, “Ahhhhh”and realize it’s coming from me…poor widow me.
To look at me you probably wouldn’t know I’m husband less because I wear a ring on my left hand ring finger. It’s diamond begets and small stones within a yellow gold band. Jimmy had it made for me over 20 years ago.
When I was feeling exceptionally happy with him I would switch off and wear my original plain gold band, the one from our wedding day. Jimmy never knew this. It’s not like in the middle of a fight I would announce,
“Timeout. We’ll go back to arguing as soon as I take off this gold band and put on the diamond one. HA! Just keep it up buster!”
When he died I was wearing the diamond one. I’ve told him I’m sorry, but now it’s too late to switch.