I’ve had a loose prong on my wedding ring for a while now. I meant to get it fixed but had opted to not wear it for the time being.
Then our church directory photos rolled around.
I figured it wouldn’t hurt to wear the ring for the pictures. And I was right. Everything went fine at the photo shoot.
Unfortunately, I forgot to take the ring off after I got home, and that night, while enjoying tacos at the fair, I glanced down to see a gaping hole in the center of my ring.
I have no idea if I lost the diamond at the fair, in Larry’s truck, or somewhere in the house. It’s been a week, and it hasn’t turned up.
Last night, as I looked at the hole in my ring, I realized it resembled the hole in my heart that’s been building as the calendar neared September 21.
On this day three years ago, my daddy passed away, leaving a void much deeper than the one in my ring. I still miss him every day and wish I could talk to him about so many things.
Or about nothing in particular.
Tonight, as I settle down to write, I realize that inside the void is gratitude for the gift we were given by having him as our daddy. He was our very own diamond.