Jim Dodds

“Awww, look. The lake’s full of water again.”

As I drive down the hill on Main Street I mutter what I always say when my granddaughter’s in the car, from the time she was tiny.

And Maddie still laughs!

It’s been eight weeks since my wife’s death and the ring is finally ready. I park the car and go in and they show it to me. And I’m just completely blown away.

I’ve had them take my wedding ring, split it in half and wrap it around hers. And here it is. Big and bold and golden and beautiful and I’m standing there shaking, starting to cry. And it’s…just spectacular.

I go out to the car, still shaking, and decide to call my stepdaughter. Eugenie and I spent the last four days with Judy in the nursing home that she always dreaded ending up in.

I took a lock of her hair and I took her wedding ring, after almost 50 years together.

I call Eugenie. She answers and I say, “I just picked up the ring at Perrywinkles.”

“I just drove by Perrywinkles!”

“Well… come back!”

There was absolutely no pre-arrangement.

Waves of grief keep passing over me and I wonder how I’ll ever survive.

But I’ve had an insight that turns the whole process inside out. 

That wave is her, coming to be with me, and the pain is me not understanding that I’m feeling her touch me. And when the wave comes, I open my heart.