Does This Ring Hurt Your Finger

Posted on August 20, 2013 under Storytelling with 2 comments

Several times over the years I have resisted the urge to get a ring – an ear ring, that is.  I don’t think that a nose ring would look too good on an old bald guy and a nipple ring is definitely out, now that I no longer prance around the beach topless.  What is this infatuation with jewelry, especially rings?

The other day, friends were visiting us from Cape Breton.  Paul was regaling us with a story of a lost university graduation ring: his mother’s.  Our university, St. Francis Xavier, has a very distinct and unique ring, the “X” ring.  No matter where you travel in the world, it is instantly recognizable.  Paul’s mother graduated from X over 60 years ago and after her death, as the eldest in the family, he inherited her ring.  He took it to a jeweller, had it re-sized and promptly lost it.  It was recovered several days later in the sugar bowl.   His wife marched him down to the jewelry store to have it re-resized.

Lost X rings have shown up in more unlikely places than this.  Occasionally, alcohol is involved.

Wedding rings are an entirely different matter.  Some people are so enamored with them that they replace them, sometimes twice or more.  At a recent cocktail party, one woman said to another, “Aren’t you wearing your wedding ring on the wrong finger?”  The other replied, “Yes I am.  I married the wrong man.”  At the same party, a man was overheard saying, “I married Miss Right.  I just didn’t know that her first name was Always.”   These folks were likely married to each other.

I happen to own exactly two pieces of jewelry: a wedding band and an X ring.  And while I am proud of each one in totally different ways, I have a confession to make.  I never wear them. It isn’t because I am not proud of my alma mater.   Neither is it because I am no longer smitten with my wife of 31 years.  No. it’s because the rings irritate my finger.

Once or twice a year, usually at Homecoming at the University or some other extra special event, I go to the jewelry box (not mine) and grab the clunky piece of gold with the year 1973 emblazoned on the side.  I slide it onto my finger and within two hours, the telltale red rash makes its grand entrance and by days end, I am literally tearing the ring off.

The wedding band is slightly different and I will choose my words very carefully here.  I never wear it.  For some reason, it is particularly aggravating.  The moment it touches the surface of my finger, my skin recoils in horror.  It seems like the ring has a traumatizing effect, despite the fact that I have been married to the same woman for 31 years.  That is, until she reads this.

So, go ahead, Charley Pride and sing your heart out. “Does my ring hurt your finger when you go out at night?”

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