All of my rings are like the chapters of a book for me. My first ring was a gold buckle which was popular at the time with sailors (which is what I was when we married in 1975) and which I wore throughout the years our children were growing up. I suppose you could say its my past.
My second ring is a delicate Russian one made up of three interlocking bands all in different golds; Carol had the same one to match. We bought these rings after the children had grown up and left home and to me they seemed to symbolise that we were still that couple – still those two skint young teenagers without a penny to our names who met at the Sailors dance on a cold January night but who still had dreams of what we were going to do together.
My third ring is a Celtic gold band. Carol is a Celt and as my retirement looms ever closer we plan to return to her native Wales to finally settle down so I guess my Celtic gold band represents my future.
Sometimes, like most people, if I’m sat on my own somewhere with nothing to do I’ll twist my rings around my finger and if I happen to stop and focus on one in particular I can transport myself back to a happy memory and relive it as though it was yesterday.