My Sister’s Ring

I lost my sister’s ring two weeks ago. A white gold Irish claddagh with three small diamonds inside the heart. I’ve worn it on my finger nearly every day for the past 13 years. The band is less delicate now than when she wore it, but it has always remained her ring.

I used to wear a Tiffany Co. silver bean ring on the same finger. That ring is still my ring, but now she’s the one to wear it everyday. I didn’t have her permission to make the trade, but I promised her that we could trade back when I see her again. With a steely resolve, I slid my ring onto her cold finger; the ring resting perfectly in the indent from hers, and I said goodbye.

Since that day, her ring has made a home for itself on my right ring finger. It’s my constant reminder that even though I don’t get to see my sister anymore, a part of her is always with me. I spin it around my finger often, holding the claddagh tightly in my fist when I need to feel her close by.

The day I lost her ring, I went to make dinner and noticed my finger was bare. I had just gotten done packing for a work trip, so I thought maybe it had slid off while I was cramming clothes into my bag. [It didn’t.] Instantly, in the pit of my stomach, I knew losing her ring felt different this time.

I’ve lost my sister’s ring before. The worst time was when it slipped off my finger while I was clearing snow from the car my senior year in college. I wasn’t wearing gloves and the ring, warm from my finger, disappeared into the snow. After a few weeks of searching every day, knowing it was somewhere in my driveway, the snow melted enough and I found her ring. It was sheltered under a rock, safely out of the way of any tire tracks.

That time, like any other time I’ve lost it, I’ve always known exactly where to look. I’ve always felt it slip from my finger, so I’ve always been confident I’ll be able to find it. This time, I didn’t feel it come off my hand, so I have no idea where to look.

Several years ago, my sister’s ring was being repaired [after I had snapped the band again], and I purchased a temporary ring to wear in its absence. A simple, silver band that says may your wildest dreams come true. It doesn’t feel the same on my finger; it’s a bit lighter on my hand. But, I’ve been wearing it again for the past two weeks as I search for her ring.

Maybe I’ll find it, but deep down I know I won’t this time. I’ve always known that at one point, I’d lose it and have to face the world without it on my finger. I had wondered if it would feel like I lost her, but it doesn’t.

It almost feels like her ring vanished into thin air, like she took it back when I wasn’t looking. I don’t know that something like that is possible, but I can’t help but feel it might be true. There have been many things that feel like small pushes from her in my universe, and this feels like one of them.

If it is true, maybe it’s her way of saying that I already know she’s always with me; that it’s time to have a different reminder on my finger now.