We were watching a Law and Order episode last night, and the husband of the victim was describing the one necklace that his wife always wore to help the police identify her body. It prompted one of those silly, "I'll never be in that situation, but...." self inspections.
I always wear my wedding band!
Mindlessly, I felt my ring finger to twirl my wedding band around my finger...a habit we all probably have.
My ring was missing. My wedding band was not in the place where it has been for almost five years! I don't take it off!
I shrieked, scaring Gordon and the dogs out of their skins, and we launched a frantic search. Well, I was frantic, chattering like a maniac. The dogs were helping look for something...they did not know what, but they were searching for it.
I was pulling quilts and sheets off of the bed, shaking and tossing pillows over my shoulder. Mentally I had already jumped ahead to wondering how much laxative we should give each of the dogs to be sure one of them had not swallowed it and how we could follow behind eight dogs everywhere outside to look for my ring.
Thankfully, Gordon nudged my little bedside cart with his knee, and there was my wedding band, peeking out from the edge. It was just a 15 minute drama, thankfully.
I have no recollection of the ring slipping off of my finger. My fingers are rarely dehydrated enough to let my ring just slide off. The indentation in my skin was still visible, but I have no idea how long my ring had been off my finger. Probably all day.
Here goes another of my strange journeys of the mind. Hang on, a rabbit trail is a more apt description.
The lost-then-found ring led to photographing my ring today so that I could blog about what was quite a jolt to my emotional system.
Kitty Dukakis has a book out about medical science's new approach to electroshock therapy. I've not read her book, but I could not help but think about it in the subsequent hours that adrenaline surged through my cells, making me feel more "alive" than any time since this current journey of stress and fatigue has drained my batteries dry, so to speak.
Recently, as I was unplugging one of the big kilns during a bad thunder storm, I was shocked by the 220 volt outlet. I very much doubt I received 220 volts, but that left hand was numb, and I could not make a fist for about an hour. What surprised me was the energy boost I had for a day or two...in the midst of a this journey of exhaustion.
A friend's daughter is involved in the research into whether smaller jolts of electricity can help people dealing with depression, chronic fatigue, etc. That is why I even knew Kitty Dukakis had written a book about her experiences. This is not like the large jolts of electric shock of the past that could wipe the mind for a while.
I'm not even remotely ready to get the book to read it...just mildly curious.
Now, at 45 years of age, I have apparently earned the life rewards of Adrenal Fatigue and Hypothyroidism, among other imbalances, probably because of years of overusing that Fight or Flight Adrenaline Rush mechanism.
Push the envelope, pull another all-nighter, ignore the fatigue to get one more project finished or one more deadline met. I've always had an emergency supply of energy to draw on, at least until the last decade.
So then, this morning, I had an email from some dear friends in Denmark to whom I had grown very close in the mid to late 1980's. They were in Enterprise, AL, for the husband, Jorgen to teach military folk how to fly helicopters. It was a NATO exchange thing.
I was a volunteer local contact for some of the Danish wives. My job was to help them settle into the American lifestyle. I Made great friends. I consider them life-long friends, although I don't keep in touch as much as I would like to or as much as I should.
This morning, I emailed a few pictures back to Jorgen and Lene, remembering the good times we had all shared. It was quite bracing to be reminded how much I have changed in the last 18 years!
Trust me, you would not recognize me now based on this old picture! The people who know me now would not recognize me in this picture.
I no longer even know the person I was in my mid to late 20's in this picture. That's me on the right. I can't even remember how she thought and felt...her unlimited outlook on life.
Then, while taking the pictures of our wedding bands, I noticed the countless scratches and dents and scars from last five years of living real life.
Both Gordon's ring and my wedding band are etched with quite a busy map of our life together. Those scratches and dents are just a record of five years, not the whole 18 years since this picture was taken.
Do we have to hit our mid 40's before we start to accumulate a bit of wisdom? Does anyone ever reclaim the pieces of themselves that they left behind in the journey of mere survival?
You could not pay me enough to go back to that age unless I could take back with me any wisdom I have gained in the past 18 years.
The scratches and dents on the rings can be buffed and polished away.
Can one reverse the scratches and dents life has left on our health and physical appearance? Too many wrinkles and too many pounds, too much wear and tear on my body and spirit, I fear.
No, all that God expects of me is to let Him make me the best me I can be at this moment in life.
For the present, I only have the energy to rest and let Him recharge my batteries and restore my spirit.
I do trust God will restore my emotional and physical balance. Maybe part of what I am lamenting is that Gordon will never know the woman in this picture...before she started wearing my ring.