by Jeffrey Jason Hill

Created on: May 18, 2009   Last Updated: May 19, 2009

If I am sure of anything I am sure that staying together for the sake of the kids is a good thing, but it is not the best thing. . . .

Stay for that reason, and your heart will certainly be wrung out like an old dishrag.

Recently I wrote a piece that I kind of feel was a "woe is me" article. I was in one of my black moods, and in it I lamented my sorry lot, having to lug this ball and chain around whilst I martyred myself for the sake of the children. The discovery that there did exist people very, very much like myself was not a comfort. And I didn't for a moment question that the kids were responsible for nine-tenths of whatever commitment I brought to the relationship. But who knew the simple act of buying new wedding bands for ourselves could replenish the dry desert of our once unhappy coupling?

It happened yesterday, actually. It was unexpected. When we awoke that morning, neither of us had any idea we were going to do this. None whatsoever. It so happened that we were blessed with a small check in the mail related to our oldest child's disability. Now, my wife had been without a proper band for some time. So had I, to tell the truth. As I contemplated what to do with the money, the idea struck: I'll buy her a new wedding band. I did not have in mind one for myself.

Mind you, all the sentiments I'd written previously were quite honest; I really did feel like a martyr, staying with someone I didn't love for my kids' sake. Until, that is, I embarked on this simple act.

We had a lot of running around to do that day. I suggested it shortly before noon after fetching the mail. When I came through the door, I put it over like an afterthought. I said, "You know what I want to do today?" My wife, who has endured over the years some of the cruelest verbal abuse a woman can receive from her husband, simply raised her eyebrows as if to say, "What hare-brained scheme will this be?"

"I want to buy you a new wedding ring," I told her. (Our wedding five years prior had been a rushed, shotgun affair, performed to prevent our second child being born out of wedlock in a ramshackle church on the outskirts of San Antonio.) The way things had been going between us, I wouldn't have blamed her if she'd laughed like Sarah when Abraham told her they were going to have a baby well into their nineties. But her reaction? She gazed at me and held her breath and was silent, rejoicing that such a surprise should ever proceed from my mouth.

Without intending it, our marriage

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