I’m sometimes amazed at the many ways our bodies have to feel the external world, particularly that of phantom feelings. It’s like when you try a new pair of shoes on at the shoe store, but only put one on; after that you feel like you’re walking on an uneven platform, when there’s really nothing there. I sometimes get the same feeling when I remove my heavy watch: I can still feel it on my wrist, even though it’s not there.

There is another weight I feel, that of the wedding ring I no longer wear. After nearly 31 years I can still feel its weight, its wide band closing around the flesh of my finger. There’s still an indentation where it used to sit. That ring is very special, given to me at our wedding by my bride, inscribed on the inside with part of the verse that to me symbolized our marriage and the love God gave us to share:

“Eccl. 4:9-10 Two are better than one”

The verses go on to say, “…because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him; a threefold cord is not quickly broken.” ESV

Notice that the verses only reference two people, but speak of a threefold cord. That for me has been the picture of a godly marriage, two people united with the Holy Spirit, who is the third strand of the “threefold cord”.

That threefold cord was diminished when the strand that was my wife was taken away this past April, returning home to the One who made her. The cord is weakened, but because I am still entwined with the Holy Spirit, he allows me to stretch in grief, but not be broken. This is the reason that for all outward appearances I seem to handle Jackie’s passing so well. Privately the tears still come, though less frequently than before. The wracking sobs are gone, replaced by silent streams of tears.

The night of Jackie’s Memorial I took off the wedding ring that had been my constant companion for so many years as was my habit, the ring being unusually wide and my finger needing to dry out during the night. The next morning I didn’t put it on. I’d finished my 40 days of morning when we had the memorial and so it seemed appropriate that I would no longer wear the ring that she’d given me. But today after all these many weeks, my hand still feels the weight of it. Like the phantom weight of the ring, Jackie will always be a part of me. “A man shall leave his father and mother and cling to his wife and the two shall become one flesh”. Though the feeling will fade in time, the ring, like Jackie, will always be a part of me, deep in my heart.