Left At The Alter

Sitting in the parking lot of Monjunni's restaurant in Bossier City, Louisiana, Ed handed me a credit card and said "I want a ring on your second left finger by the end of next week."  My eyes widened as I stared at the plastic card.  How much can I spend, I asked?  He said he was only buying one ring and to "knock myself out."  There was also the explanation that I was terribly picky and he wanted me to be thrilled with a ring that signified our union.  It doesn't get any more romantic than that I tell you.

A short five months later, I came down the aisle like a grown woman with a purpose, not like a child bride playing dress up.  There was organ music playing and I noticed the fifty people who were kind and crazy enough to come to a remote location to bear witness to it all.  At the end of my path, there was the man I was going to marry.  After facing Ed at the front of the church, my hands touched his and I felt my beautiful ring on the end of his finger.  That warm and fuzzy feeling lasted about thirty seconds before a feeling of panic took over.  I did not have his ring with me.  I knew right where I had left...on the stairs where I was hiding out before the wedding. 

The groom's ring belonged to my grandfather.  He was a man who was the strong silent type.  Robust with moral character and deeply private.  Ed shares a lot of characteristics with this man and it seemed more than fitting that I should use his ring in our ceremony. 

It was a split second reaction which took what seemed like an eternity in my head.  I could either fake the part of the ceremony with the exchanging of rings, or I could take 60 seconds to make it right.  I don't fake things and pride myself on always being real. There was only one choice to make.   I looked at the preacher and softly whispered...."pardon me, I forgot something."  With that and no more, I was headed back down the aisle to collect the ring from the place I left it.  Ed turns to watch me leave and yells "are you coming back?"  I could hear my mother lean over to explain "she probably just has to pee."  I snatched up the sentimental gold band and marched rapidly back down the aisle with the organist trying to keep up with my quickened pace for the second time.  I joined Ed back at the alter and told the preacher "you may proceed."

Ed loves to tell people I left him at the alter....but not as much as he loves to tell them I came back.