With This Ring

Twenty-nine years ago I placed a ring on my husband's finger, promising to provide a home for him with love to fill his heart and laughter to fill his soul.


It was a bit touch and go that day as to whether the ring would go over his gnarley knuckle. We stood watching as the minister spoke about the significance of the rings, all the while twisting Goddy's ring in his fingers and rubbing off the Vaseline we'd carefully applied so it would slip on. It did get stuck a bit at the second knuckle, but I managed to shove it on without losing too much composure.

The rings we exchanged served their intended purpose, reminding us of the great love we share and the never-ending circle of God's love that keeps it intact.

Well, all the years of shearing and hard work finally took their toll this summer and Goddy's ring finger swelled dangerously. After agonizing over it for a few weeks, with me sure that gangrene would set in and we wouldn't need to worry about a ring finger, much less a ring, he finally agreed to have his wedding ring cut off.


He said it felt like part of his identity got cut away at the same time. The only time that ring had come off in all those years was for rugby games in the first year of our marriage.

But then, we got a brilliant idea. Actually, I got the idea but Goddy agreed that it was brilliant. Well, maybe he wasn't that enthused right at first, but he thought the idea had merit. He would get a ring tattooed onto his finger.

When the boys and I got our tattoos, people would ask Goddy when he was getting his, and he maintained he wasn't going to succumb to peer pressure. His abiding memory of a tattoo discussion was with his grandfather Charlie, who'd gotten one during WWI, during a wild leave in London. Charlie and his buddys all got tats, convinced they were going to die in the trenches in France and so it wouldn't matter. Well, they didn't and it did. The only time Goddy remembers his grandfather getting angry was when he admired the tattoo, only to be told that a day didn't go by that Charlie didn't regret what he'd done.

Those kind of memories have a way of coloring how one looks at things, and Goddy never saw a reason for a tattoo. Until now...

The very thing that had been taboo for so long became the solution. Now, a tattooed ring doesn't completely encircle the finger (our digits just weren't designed for it I guess) and you get to think up a design that's got a bit more spiff that a plain gold band. But that's what makes it special, and it'll never go away, no matter what those old knuckles do.

Imagine our delight when a tattoo studio opened last week in Sisters, run by a local young woman who we admire. We do love to shop local.

Today was the day, and here is the process...

It's an interesting canvas to work on!

Ashley warned that it would hurt...

And it did!



But it was worth it in the end.

Tattooed fingers, tattooed ankles, tattooed hearts - we've got 'em all now!