A hundred columns ago, I wrote a piece entitled “The Island of Lost Objects” after a friend gave me a class ring she found and asked me to help track down the owner.
Here’s a re-cap:
It’s a 1981 Fort Walton Beach High School class ring bearing the name “Roger” and the word “chorus” The initials on the inside are “RAC.” If it’s yours or you know to whom it belongs, give me a call.
Roger’s high school ring got me thinking about other lost rings that carry stories abounding in emotion and sentimentality for those who once wore and cherished them. Such losses are laden with mystery and heartbreak.
My tale of lost rings begins with a post on Facebook. The poster is seeking the owner of a wedding ring, with the engraving “Barry and Vicki Nov. 9, 1963.” In their words, “We’d love to get it back to the owner.” If you know Barry and Vicki, please contact the Diamond Works at 850-244-5252.
In a related post, The Destin Log reports the loss of a wedding band and engagement ring belonging to Andrea Brown Moak who lost the welded set of rings in Destin. In a response to The Log’s post on Facebook, Andrea wrote, “Thank you all for sharing. Such a gracious community. Still no luck on finding the ring. However, the loss has made me reflect, and although it was something very special, it was just a THING. Counting my blessings and what really matters — my healthy family. If this is the worst thing that happens for a while, I'll take it. Again, thank you all for sharing.” Call 850-376-4497 if you can help her.
If anyone can relate to Andrea’s loss, it’s me.
Among the thousands of dollars in property my thief stole from me was my late husband’s simple gold wedding band. It was valued for prosecutorial purposes at $160. But it’s absolutely priceless to me. Frank never took off that ring for the 49 years of our marriage. The funeral director removed it from his finger and gave it to me just before the casket was closed, and I slipped it on my thumb. As I stood up to speak at the funeral, I twirled it around and around out of nervousness and out of a need for courage. Caressing his ring while speaking helped me get through those very hard moments. It was as if Frank’s unseen presence kept me composed long enough to talk about what a very special man he was, not just to me but to everyone one who was privileged to know him.
I agree with Andrea. It was just a “thing.” And maybe Roger, Barry, and Vicki would say the same about their lost rings. But I’m very sure each of their rings, like mine, has a story.
On my pinkie finger I wear a gold band that isn’t mine. Inside is the inscription “FLC to FEK 10-23-1924.” I found it years ago and kept it in my jewelry box. After my original wedding rings and Frank’s wedding band were stolen, I began wearing it to remind me that somewhere out there the couple’s descendants might love to have it. Somehow, it connects me to someone else’s loss and reminds me I’m not the only person who has lost something treasured.
For all of us who have suffered material loss, it’s up to the true Lord of the Rings, God Himself, if we are ever to see that precious ring again. It’s in His domain to give it back or to help us let it go, with the realization that our blessings do not radiate from a ring or from any earthly object.
I’m fond of St. Anthony, the go-to Saint when you’ve lost something:
“Anthony, perfect imitator of Jesus, who received from God the special power of restoring lost things, grant that I may find (name the lost item) which has been lost. At least restore to me peace of mind, the loss of which has afflicted me even more than my material loss. To this favor, I ask another of you: that I may always remain in possession of the true good that is God. Let me rather lose all things than lose God, my supreme good. Let me never suffer the loss of my greatest treasure, eternal life with God.”
Mary Ready of Destin is a twice-retired English teacher and long-time area resident. Her columns are published on Saturdays.