one ring after another

One Ring
A friend of ours, Randy, is a jeweler. When Pam and I married, we had Randy make our rings for us.
After 33 years, I’d developed a habit of absentmindedly sliding the ring off and on my finger.
One day last summer, I realized that I’d lost the damn thing. I remembered doing my “sliding the ring off and on” thing but not where I lost it.
I searched the house a few times. Moved every object in the house while I was at it. Vacuumed the house and checked the bag.
I felt stupid.

Another Ring
When Pam thought about what to get me for my birthday, the answer seemed obvious – another ring.
The tricky bit was to figure out what size my ring finger was these days.
One night, Pam told me that we were going to Macy’s to get my ring finger sized for no apparent reason. (
We nodded and winked at each other but didn’t actually say that I was getting a new ring for my birthday.
When my birthday came, Pam gave me a box labelled “Randolph David Jewellery” which is the name of Randy’s (Randy and Janet’s these days) company.
Inside was a ring that fit my finger perfectly.
Pam told me to look inside the ring.
I looked and it read “Forever Love Pam”.

Because I’m a geek and despite not being a Tolkien fan, I said “…and one ring to bind them”.

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