Twenty years...

More than 20 years ago, my incredible husband asked me to be his wife. Later this summer we'll celebrate 20 amazing years of marriage. We've added three kids to the family... and one fish (and other assorted pets through the years). We've lived in three towns at eight different addresses. We've traveled further than I ever imagined we would -- China, really? But I'm terrified to fly! Make that "WAS."

As our anniversary rolls in, one very important symbol of our love won't make it there with us... My wedding ring. And my engagement ring.

It seems that all that living wore them out and there's just no repairing them. That makes me sadder than you might imagine. After all, I've still got the man. That should be good enough, right?

But I remember when Rob proposed. I remember being newly engaged, playing with my ring during torts class and watching it sparkle. Those rings, picked out so carefully and secretly by my dear husband, meant a lot to me. I never took them off.

Good-bye dear rings. Thanks for sharing 20 years with us.