Tolga and I celebrated the New Year together. I came home from work, woke him up, we kissed, and then went to bed. Tolga had to work at four in the morning. He dreamed that night that we had trouble with our marriage, and woke up feeling anxious. He went to work, working hard until about eleven. He was working in the backroom, taking care of the garbage where it was cold and he is breaking down cardboard. At some point in those last twenty minutes of work, Tolga lost his wedding ring. He looked for it, ended his shift, and proceeded to search for two more hours to no avail. When Tolga came home, I knew he was tired, but he was so upset too. "I lost my ring," he blurted out. It was an awful feeling. It's only a symbol, but it had such a deflating effect. Words couldn't fix it or make it better. It was a lost.
In our apartment was a ring left behind from the previous tenant. I had left it in the cabinet, never moving it, not sure if it was a jewelry or a pipe fitting. I brought it out now, and put it on Tolga's finger.
For some reason, it made us both really happy and hopeful.
No comments:
Post a Comment