That's my left hand this morning, and I am missing something MAJOR. On August 9, 2013, at a church outside of Birmingham where my Daddy is the pastor, I walked down the aisle, exchanged vows while crying off all my mascara, and married my best friend. We didn't have our rings at the time, so I spent my first week as a wife without one.

Meg Summers B101.7 Tuscaloosa Wedding
a selfie I snapped before heading down the aisle
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Then my husband (I can't get used to saying that... HUSBAND!) and I went to Kentucky this weekend to visit family and friends. We went shopping Saturday evening at the stores on the square in downtown Bowling Green. Tucked away in an eclectic vintage store, I found it: the ring of my dreams: an artisan piece from the 1930's with a sensible sterling silver band. I tried it on, and without hesitating for a second, my HUSBAND bought it and placed it on my hand.

Vintage Ring Marquis Cut
my beautiful ring
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I've worn it ever since, taking it off in the evenings. I even have a crystal ring holder my Nana purchased for me so I'll always know exactly where my beautiful vintage ring is.

Right now, it's not on my hand. I forgot to put it on today. It's my first time forgetting something so small--yet so large in terms of its significance. I suppose I'm just not in the habit of putting it on in the morning. It's a mad dash to get myself and my daughter ready and out the door, but I have to make time.

Otherwise, I'll be staring at a naked ring finger all day, and that makes me sad. I'll close this post out with a picture of me, my HUSBAND (!!!!), and our daughter. Nothing in this world makes me as happy as my little family does... not even pie--and that says a lot.

image courtesy David A. Smith/DSmithImages
image courtesy David A. Smith/DSmithImages
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