Hi everyone! My name is Ron, and I’m an Iron Ring. I was born in a flash of molten steel and cut, rolled and pounded into shape on an assembly line. I can’t remember exactly when or where I was born, but none of us do; the more important fact that we hold on to is the day we found our most recent home. For me that was March 28, 2009; it was the day I was given to Ross.
I’m sure the past year and 10 months have been a blur for him, just like it has been for me! He accidently crushed me in a door, almost baked me into a casserole, drowned me in countless pints, pounded me against tables and walls in anger and tapped me against everything else in joy. I was there when he broke down and cried. I was there when landed his dream job. I am scratched, discoloured, dented and no longer round.
Together we’ve surfed on the Pacific and swam in the Atlantic, hiked up a mountain and stood at the edge of the desert. I’ve been with him as he started a career and laid roots in a new town, and I’ll be with him as he changes careers again and enters what could be a terrifying and defining part of his life.
I’m there when he hugs his family and sees his friends.
Sometimes when he visits people I meet a fellow Iron Ring. We chat as they chat, compare scars and markings and remember times past. Some Rings are old and some are brand new. Some have little to show from their life, and some are deeply disfigured. Other rings have been around the world and some have never left the province. Like their owners and their homes, each is different in subtle and fundamental ways.
Some rings go with their owners to mansions and lavish parties. Some rings are there when their owners can’t make ends meet. We go to funerals, births, weddings and the grave. Our owners cry on us, laugh with us, yell and scream and love with us.
But our owners are never there because of us. We don’t give them access or potential. We don’t imbue them with talent, charisma or intelligence. We don’t see the future. We only remember a very specific past, and because of that we are like a picture. We are worth a thousand words, but to most people those words are jibberish.
We Iron Rings are not magic. We don’t protect you from pain and hardship, and don’t grant you happiness and success. Always remember that we are only there to remind you of an obligation, not help you fulfill it, and when an Iron Ring finds a home on your finger know that we will only mean something more if you want us to. But do not make us your life because life is hard and we are very, very small shields. We’re just along for the ride.
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