The nurse cut my father’s wedding ring off

Dear Delyara, My father’s hands were swollen in intensive care, and the nurse said his wedding ring had to be removed before it damaged circulation. The ring had not left his finger in fifty-seven years. Soap, gardening, surgery, funerals, everything—he kept it on. They tried lubricant first. It would not move. Then the nurse brought a small metal cutter. My mother turned away. I watched. The sound was tiny, almost nothing, but I felt as though someone were sawing through the marriage itself. When the ring finally opened, there was a pale groove in Father’s finger where the skin had grown around it. Mum took the broken ring and immediately tried to push the two ends together. She asked whether a jeweler could fix it. The nurse said yes. Father died two days later. Today, I took the ring to a jeweler. He said repairing it would be easy. I surprised myself by saying no. I asked him only to smooth the sharp edges. Mum is angry with me. She says Dad would want it whole. Perhaps. I keep thinking the broken ring tells the truth more honestly. Their marriage did not break. His body did. The ring had to be cut because he had worn it so faithfully that even at the end, love would not slide off easily.