Together Forever (2014)

Gold, silver 3/4" x 1/2"

I proposed to my husband with my grandfather’s wedding ring, a thin gold band which my grandfather had worn for 62 years until his death. It was an artifact of his time with my grandma, all dents and dings and shiny parts in between. When my grandmother gave it to me she said, “Just make sure you get another 62 years out of it.”

My husband made my wedding ring in a friend’s basement. He’d originally made a second ring for himself to wear during our engagement, which said Jennifer is my fiance stamped on the inside. It came out too small, though, so I wore it along with mine. Over the years, they became scratched and dented, like a topographic record of our lives.

A wedding ring isn’t just a symbol; it is an object with a history and a future that you believe will be with you forever. If you find yourself in the position of having to take it off, it aches like a broken promise.

I couldn’t bear the thought that our rings, which had been consecrated together, were now sitting in separate boxes in separate houses. I needed them to do what we could not, so I made sure they would be together forever.