I Was Naked All Day on Sunday!
My Ring Finger Was Unadorned
Estimated reading time: 1 minute, 38 seconds
Today, I left my house without wearing my wedding ring, the first time since our marriage in 1975. The only other time I had taken it off was thirty years ago when I dislocated my thumb. Although it felt strange not to have my ring on my finger, I wasn’t sure if anyone would notice its absence. Even if someone did notice, they might not have questioned it. However, as time passes, someone might ask me why I am not wearing it.
When my wife and I married, we bought our wedding rings from a small jewelry store in East Williamsburg. At the store, my wife asked me if I would wear a wedding ring even though I never wore any jewelry. Without hesitation, I said I loved her and wanted to be her husband more than anything. I promised to wear the ring day and night, which I have done ever since.
Today marks a turning point in my journey. It has been twenty-eight months since I lost my beloved wife, Jan. I have kept my wedding band on as a reminder of our life together, but I finally took it off today. Living in the present and looking toward the future is the best way to honor her memory. Her love has shaped me into who I am today, giving me the strength to future with hope and positivity. I will always cherish our life together, but I know she wants me to move forward and continue to grow.
The Jan Lilien Education Fund sponsors ongoing sustainability and environmental awareness programs. Gifts made this month; I will match dollar-for-dollar. All donations are tax-deductible.
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Living Life Fully
My Ring Finger Was Unadorned
Estimated reading time: 1 minute, 38 seconds
Bravely Facing the Unknowable Future
Although the distance from my car to my wife's grave is short, the heat and humidity drain my energy, making me sweat like sitting in a sauna. While in her memorial garden, I feel her presence, as her love is free and tranquilizes the air. However, it is only at Beth Israel Cemetery that we can communicate.
Forty-eight years ago, we exchanged handwritten vows on the rabbi's terrace overlooking Central Park. Today, there are no vows to make, but updates on how I am doing 27 months after the funeral.
After bidding farewell to my loved one, I wiped my face with my handkerchief, soaked in tears and sweat. As I approached my car, I finally turned around to express my love. When I sat in the driver's seat, I noticed that my iPhone and Apple Watch displayed my wife's photo instead of my grandchildren's. Although I had changed the images before, I only briefly dwelled on the change.
However, I realized I was prepared, enthusiastic, and capable of facing any obstacle. As the engine roared, I ventured out of the cemetery into a future that intimidated and exhilarated me. Upon arriving home, I noticed that my iPhone and Apple Watch now displayed my grandchildren's photos. It felt like a sign from my wife's spirit, sending me a message to embrace the future.
