Dumpster Diving

Have you ever felt so sick about something you weren't even sure you wanted to blog about it? That's how I'm feeling right about now.

The other day (about a week and a half ago) I was in the kitchen getting ready to throw something away in the garbage can. When I did, I noticed that my palm pilot was laying in there on the top. I grabbed it out and gave Gaven a hard time for throwing it away. It wasn't until 2-3 days later that I realized that I couldn't find my watch and my ring. My watch opens completely, so I usually take them off together and hook my ring on my watch. (I hadn't worn them in a little while, because we'd been home sick and not gone anywhere in a few days)

I can't remember when it dawned on me, but it did . . . I had left them on the same table that my palm pilot had been on the day that he threw away my palm pilot. Luckily I had remembered the exact garbage bag that it had been in and I wouldn't have to look through all of them if I could find it in that one.

Since my Mom is here, she agreed to hold a garbage bag while I rummaged through the other one pulling things out. It wasn't until we got into the garage and halfway through the garbage bag that I realized none of these garbage bags were the one that my palm pilot was in. I remembered a few things that were in the garbage bag when I found the palm pilot, and these weren't them. We finished going through the garbages, of course, just in case I was wrong, but I wasn't.

I don't know if I can adequately explain the feeling that goes through your chest when you realize that the garbage bag that MOST LIKELY holds your wedding ring was taken out to the curb last Thursday, and is long gone. At that point, I still held out hope that we'd find it somewhere in the house, because, other than the obvious places, we hadn't really searched the house.

My sweet, sweet Mom and I went back into the house and proceeded to go through EVERY thing we could think of, from under furniture, behind furniture, in toy bins, dresser drawers . . . you name it, we tore the house inside out looking for my watch and ring. We had a few false excitements with things that were shiny and silver, but no luck.

I wish I could say that the story has a happy ending, but it doesn't, not yet at least. I still sit typing naked fingered, thinking about my beautiful wedding ring and what my hubby went through to put it on my finger. It's very modest in it's setting, something I picked out myself, and the diamond is modest in size, but it's nearly flawless and absolutely stunning. I miss my ring!! I can't think about it too much 'cause it still makes me teary!