Ten years ago, my husband and I went to a little shop in Connecticut to shop for our wedding and engagement rings. I found a setting that had a pearl in it, with a teeny-tiny diamond attached to the side, almost at say, as if it were at 10 p.m. on a clock. I loved it, so I asked if that could be the setting, and have the pearl be replaced by a diamond. They looked intrigued, and said that no one had asked for that before, but, they thought it could be done. Then, I asked if there could be a band designed to fit the ring, which was shaped like a circle, but with a twist to it, almost as if there was a tiny wave in the middle. They went to the task, and a week later, I had this beautiful ring set, two rings, one that fit around the other like a puzzle piece. It was absolutely beautiful, and unique. I loved it so much and of course being in love and about to be married added to its magic.
I wore that ring on special occasions, but always was careful to put it in my purse if I were to take it off playing the piano (as that is what I do for a living). After I had our two children, however, I was gigging less and less, and wore the ring less and less, because it would snag on my baby’s clothes, or I didn’t want to scratch my kids while picking them up. But when I wasn’t wearing it, it would sit lovingly in a small red sparkly container in a very specific place on my bureau. It was either in the red case, or on my finger. I loved the ring as much as I did the day I got it, and whether I was wearing it or not, it was always in my heart as a symbol of the romantic time that symbolized young love.
Last year on our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband suggested that we go to a restaurant in Greenwich Village in NYC, somewhere we used to go to eat and sit in for a jam session. (My husband is a jazz bass player, and I am a pianist.) So we went! Little did we know that we were going to run into musicians that we knew, and after dinner, they asked if we wanted to sit in. Of course, we said yes. Now, I had been out of practice putting the ring in my purse. I hastily took off the ring set (as I can’t play too well with it on. Sometimes it turns around and the diamond would click on the keys) and placed it on top of the piano. I made a mental note to myself, something like, “I will be SURE not to forget I did that. It is not possible, anyways, because I will see it when I get up to play.” However, after we played a couple of tunes, the adrenaline was running high. We thanked the musicians, who wished us a happy anniversary, and we were on our merry way. Me, and my husband. Me and my bare finger.
When we got home and I was getting ready for bed, I went to put my ring away. I was panicked because it wasn’t on my finger. I immediately told my husband and I called the restaurant. I told them to please, please find my wedding ring that I had left on the piano. But there was a lot of noise in the background, and when the person came back to the phone, they said they did not see any rings there. The next day, I called the bass player who had asked us to sit in to ask him if he had seen it. He said he did not see a ring, and did not remember having seen in. But I knew it was there, and that someone had taken it.
