The Ring

Occasionally, you're bound to run across insensitive people in this world, but in the last week I've gotten three variations of the same insult.

"Why are you still wearing a ring if he's dead?"

Let's skip for a second that it's my body and style, therefore I am the only one who gets a voice in it, and thus "because I want to" is a fair answer.  Let's get to the deeper answers.

Because he was such a huge part of my life I can't bring myself to remove it.

Because it makes me feel connected to him on a daily basis.  It's what I rub if I'm feeling anxious, if I need to talk him.  If I'm thinking about him, talking about him, missing him.  It's my talisman.

Because he's dead, not our relationship.

Because I'm loyal.

Because I love him.

Because we did not break up.  He simply died.

But the root of the answer is this: Because I'm ME.  This is how I choose to relate to my deceased spouse, this is how I choose to remember him, this I how I choose to relate to him.  These are not your choices.  They are no one else's decision to make.  A number of his buddies got tattoos in remembrance.  I have not.  I wear a ring.  Not everyone wears a ring, and it means absolutely nothing about how they relate to their deceased spouse.  This is simply who I am.

And I refuse to remove it simply because he's dead.

(and pssst... I've worn a ring on the finger since I was 16.  On a certain level, it's simply the finger where I wear rings.)