My dad never wore his wedding ring

My dad never wore his wedding ring, which always bothered my mom.
He said he lost it shortly after their wedding and never replaced it.

When we were cleaning out his belongings, we found the ring in a small box with a note.
It said, ‘I never wore it because every time I look at it, I remember the promise I was too afraid to break in half.

The sentence stops there, no signature, no date. Just those words written in my father’s familiar slanted handwriting, the ink slightly smudged as if his hand hesitated at the very end. I am standing in his old bedroom, the curtains half open, dust floating in the pale afternoon light. My fingers tremble around the small velvet box. The ring sits inside, gold still gleaming after all these years, untouched by daily wear, preserved like something sacred and forbidden at the same time. Continue reading…