The Ring

I’m still trying to figure it out. At about 5:30 in the morning Lona and I were in Suburban Hospital; at 7:30 she was scheduled for hip replacement surgery. She gave me her watch and wedding ring of 48 years to hold until she came home after surgery. I placed both in an envelope, sealed it and put it in my pocket for safety.

Midway through Lona’s surgery, I reached in my pocket for some change and felt the watch, which somehow came out of the envelope. How did that happen? The envelope seemed still sealed, although that might have happened when I removed it from my pocket. I ripped it open to find the ring, but it wasn’t there. How in the world…? I turned my pocket inside out, searched every possible place in that pocket, every other pocket, and my backpack, but no ring.

I searched the waiting room. No ring.

“What are you looking for?’ asked a gentleman.

“My wife’s wedding ring. It disappeared.” I told him what you just read above.

He offered to help me look. “Two sets of eyes are better than one,” he said.

I appreciated the offer, but where to look?

The lady in charge of the waiting room, Marga Estes, seemed concerned.

“You must have put it in a different envelope,” she said.

“Impossible. I asked the lady at the registration desk for an envelope and sealed the watch and ring in it then and there.”

Marga looked unconvinced.

“Nevertheless,” she persisted, “go look.”

I went downstairs, asked the same lady who gave me the envelope if she had seen the ring, which she hadn’t, and then I went to the area Lona and I waited downstairs for a short while right after she gave me her watch and ring.

No ring.

A lady was vacuuming the floor, and I thought maybe she sucked it up. “No,” she said. “I didn’t go there yet.”

I had a cup of coffee and muffin at a small coffee stand when Lona went to the operating room, so I checked there if anyone had seen a ring.

No.

I rifled through the trash where dirty cups and soiled napkins were thrown away. I recognized my cup since I had stuffed my napkin and muffin wrapper in it. No ring.

I reported a missing ring to the Security of the hospital. They said they would look out for it.

When I returned to the operating waiting room, several people asked me whether I found the ring.

“No. I can’t figure it out,” I said. “I know I put it in the envelope, sealed it and put it in my pocket. It can’t be magic.”

Apart from the frustration, my mind started drifting. Could this be a bad omen? Will Lona’s surgery have problems? Will she be okay?

“Relax,” I told myself. It’s got to turn up somewhere. Yet…

“Don’t worry,” Marga Estes said. “Things happen. It will be all right.”

Sure, I thought, but this was Lona’s wedding ring.

About ten minutes went by and Marga came back to me. “I’m a very religious person,” she said, “and I prayed the ring would turn up.”

I was touched. She really cared. Then she showed me a thin ring. “Is this it?”

Oh my god. Yes!!

“Where did you find it?”

“Under this chair,” she said, pointing to a chair not far from where Lona and I were sitting. At that time the ring was in the sealed envelope in my pocket, and I hadn’t removed it.

My fellow waiting room colleagues cheered. It was time to rejoice. The ring was back!

I’ll never know how the watch and ring escaped the envelope, and then how the ring worked its way under a chair nearby. Maybe Houdini’s ghost was in the waiting room.

And then I started thinking of all the things that happen to us in a lifetime that we can’t explain, and then forget about. It’s overwhelming, really. I’m not religious, like Marga is, but I’m grateful to her, and to everyone else who find a way to keep perspective and accept help when it’s needed, because there’s lot’s of it out there.

We’re not alone.

P.S. Lona’s surgery went well, she’s home, hobbling around, and recovering quickly.

Thank God.