How do you honor your husband and not wear your wedding ring?
It’s a question I never thought I would have to ask.
Yet it’s one of the most common questions widows silently wrestle with.
When my husband, Quintin, unexpectedly passed away on April 9, 2024, I became part of a club nobody wants to join.
A widow.
A title I never wanted.
A title I certainly wasn’t prepared for.
And while there were countless decisions to make in the days, weeks, and months that followed, one decision seemed to linger longer than all the others.
What do I do with my wedding ring?
The Night My Husband Died
My journey with my wedding ring actually began the night Quintin passed away.
As I knelt beside his lifeless body, I desperately wanted answers.
I wanted to ask God why.
Why him?
Why now?
Why us?
Why our children?
I was angry.
Heartbroken.
Confused.
Completely shattered.
I wanted to demand answers from Heaven.
But kneeling there beside the love of my life, all I could do was lift my hands and give thanks.
Not because I understood.
Not because I agreed.
Not because I wasn’t devastated.
But because I couldn’t deny what a gift he had been.
A gift as a husband.
A gift as a father.
A gift as my best friend.
A gift that I had been blessed to love for nearly 25 years of marriage and 30 years together.
My heart was breaking while simultaneously thanking God for every year we were given.
Grief and gratitude occupied the same space.
Looking back now, I think that’s why my wedding ring became so complicated afterward.
Because it wasn’t just jewelry.
It was proof that he had been here.
Proof that our love story was real.
Proof that all those years actually happened.
Why I Kept Wearing My Wedding Ring
For nearly a year, I continued wearing my wedding ring.
At first, I couldn’t imagine taking it off.
But if I’m honest, there were other reasons too.
The ring made me feel safe.
A wedding ring creates a boundary.
People see it and assume someone is waiting for you at home.
As a woman navigating the world alone for the first time in decades, there was comfort in that.
The ring felt like armor.
A shield.
A small piece of the life I had lost.
Yet wearing it also created new challenges.
People would see the ring and ask about my husband.
“What does your husband do?”
“How long have you been married?”
Questions that seem innocent until your husband is no longer here to answer them.
Every question forced me to decide whether I had the emotional energy to explain my story.
Every question reminded me of what I had lost.
The Questions Nobody Sees
As time passed, I found myself wearing the ring some days and leaving it off on others.
There wasn’t a grand plan.
No announcement.
No timeline.
Just a grieving widow trying to figure out how to live in a reality she never wanted.
And while I was quietly wrestling through that process, people noticed.
For more than a year, messages rolled in.
“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?”
“Did you take your ring off?”
“What happened to your wedding ring?”
Some asked gently.
Others made assumptions.
Still others offered opinions.
Many people would tell me:
“Honor your husband and wear your ring.”
As if honoring Quintin was somehow attached to a piece of jewelry.
As if the depth of my love for him could be measured by what was or wasn’t on my finger.
The truth is, I wasn’t hiding anything.
I simply wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.
Because this wasn’t really about a ring.
It was about grief.
Identity.
Faith.
And learning how to trust God in a chapter I never wanted.
So I held that story close until now.
The Ring Became Something Different
As April 2025 approached, I realized something had shifted.
Not in my love for Quintin.
Not in my memories.
Not in my gratitude for the life we shared.
But in how I viewed the ring itself.
One of the biggest turning points came during my first trip after Quintin’s death.
For the first time, I left my wedding ring at home.
Not because I was ready.
Not because I wanted to.
Not because I had somehow “moved on.”
I left it because I was terrified of losing it.
God forbid something happened to me.
God forbid there was an accident.
God forbid my children had to walk through another unimaginable loss.
One thought kept running through my mind:
“What if my kids never receive this ring?”
For years I had viewed my wedding ring as a symbol of my marriage.
But now I saw something different.
I saw legacy.
I saw family history.
I saw a tangible reminder that their dad was here.
That our love story was real.
That a man named Quintin Conway loved their mom with everything he had.
And suddenly I wasn’t just thinking about Lily and Ella someday holding that ring.
I was thinking about Kale.
I was thinking about Fisher.
I was thinking about all four of our children.
About future spouses.
Future grandchildren.
Future generations.
About stories that would be told long after I am gone.
The ring was no longer just mine.
It belonged to our family’s story.
Every time I slipped my wedding ring onto my finger, I began sensing something in my spirit.
Not guilt.
Not pressure.
Just a gentle reminder.
“Lori, I am still here.”
Because while marriage was one of God’s greatest gifts to me, it was never meant to be my identity.
Marriage is for this earthly life.
My identity has always been found in Christ.
That truth was difficult to accept.
For decades I wasn’t just Lori.
I was Quintin’s wife.
Mrs. Conway.
His person.
And suddenly God was asking me to trust Him with an identity I never wanted.
A future I never chose.
A chapter I never would have written.
The more I prayed, journaled, worshipped, and processed my grief, the more I realized God wasn’t asking me to let go of Quintin.
He was asking me to trust Him.
Trust Him with my memories.
Trust Him with my future.
Trust Him with my identity.
Trust Him with what comes next.
Why I Started Wearing My Promise Ring Instead
Instead, I began wearing my promise ring.
The ring Quintin gave me before wedding bands.
Before mortgages.
Before children.
Before careers.
Before nearly 25 years of married life together.
Wearing that ring reminded me where our story began.
And for the first time, I stopped seeing my wedding ring as something I had to wear.
I started seeing it as something I was entrusted to protect.
An heirloom.
A treasure.
A legacy.
The Mrs. Box Ring Ceremony
Months later, God brought all of those emotions full circle.
I found myself attending the Never Alone Widows Retreat at Pursell Farms in Alabama.
Hundreds of widows.
Hundreds of stories.
Hundreds of broken hearts.
And yet there was hope everywhere.
Women learning how to breathe again.
Women learning how to trust God again.
Women learning how to walk through grief one day at a time.
During the retreat, each widow received a beautiful Mrs. Box.
Then came the ring ceremony.
An invitation.
Not a requirement.
Not pressure.
Simply an invitation.
When we were ready, we could place our wedding rings inside.
I remember holding that box and crying.
Because it wasn’t really about the ring.
It was about surrender.
Surrendering the identity I had known for decades.
Surrendering the fear that taking off my ring meant letting go of Quintin.
Surrendering the belief that my love for him was somehow attached to a piece of jewelry.
Trusting that honoring my husband and trusting God with my future could both be true.
And there, surrounded by women who understood this unique grief, I placed my wedding ring inside the box.
Not because I stopped loving him.
Not because I was moving on.
Not because our story ended.
But because God had already done a work in my heart.
Truthfully, I had taken my wedding ring off for the final time in April of 2025.
The ceremony wasn’t the moment I removed it.
The ceremony was the moment I surrendered it.
The Gift of Widow Sisters
One of the greatest gifts from that retreat wasn’t the box.
It was the women.
Women who understood.
Women who didn’t need explanations.
Women who knew exactly why a ring could feel so heavy.
Women who knew grief and gratitude can coexist.
Women who reminded me I wasn’t alone.
This retreat was the start of my healing and not moving on rather moving through my grief and giving myself permission and ultimately choosing for grief and gratitude which leads to joy to co-exist.
There Are Times Your Soul Needs To Praise
As I placed my ring inside that Mrs. Box, I wasn’t saying goodbye.
I had already said thank you.
The night Quintin died, I thanked God for the gift of his life.
This moment felt like thanking God again.
Thank You for the marriage.
Thank You for the memories.
Thank You for the laughter.
Thank You for the children.
Thank You for the love story.
And thank You, Lord, for carrying me into a future I never would have chosen.
A Ring Doesn’t Determine Love
The truth is this:
The ring came off.
But the love remained.
The memories remained.
The lessons remained.
The legacy remained.
The children remained.
And God remained too.
Taking off my wedding ring didn’t mean I loved Quintin less.
It didn’t mean I forgot him.
It didn’t mean I was moving on.
It meant I was trusting God.
Trusting Him with my grief.
Trusting Him with my identity.
Trusting Him with whatever comes next.
If You’re a Widow Reading This
Maybe you’re wondering whether it’s time.
Maybe you’re feeling guilty.
Maybe you’re afraid of what people will think.
Maybe you’re afraid of what it means.
Let me gently remind you:
There is no widow rulebook.
There is no timeline.
There is no right or wrong answer.
Some widows wear their rings forever.
Some take them off after months.
Others after years.
The ring is simply a symbol.
The love remains.
Always.
And if you’re walking through grief today, let this be your reminder:
There are times when your mind simply cannot process reality.
The questions are too big.
The pain is too deep.
The circumstances make no sense.
In those moments, your soul needs to praise God.
Not because everything is okay.
Not because you understand.
Not because you’ve healed.
But because worship reminds your heart of what is true when your circumstances make no sense.
So worship your way through it.
Praise your way through it.
Sing through the tears.
Sing through the anger.
Sing through the heartbreak.
Sing until your soul remembers who God is.
Sing until hope returns.
Sing until you can breathe again.
Sing until you are healed.
Because healing doesn’t come from a ring.
Healing comes from the One who never leaves.
And even now, in the chapter I never wanted, He is still here.
❤️🩹
If you are a widow please comment below and let me know what you have decided to do with your wedding ring? There is not one right way for healing, so please feel free to be raw and vulnerable here you are welcome. Also, if you are looking for resources please visit HERE- NEVER ALONE WIDOWS to get connected on taking a step toward your grief healing journey!
my husband, my Lucky (54 years married) went home to Jesus last July 26. (so hard to believe a year is coming in couple weeks) I don’t/can’t say the W word about myself.. My response about being married.. Yes I’m married but my husband now lives in heaven where I will join him one day in God’s perfect timing. For me I don’t ever plan to remove my wedding rings. My heart grieves every day for my husband but I also feel joy and incredible gratitude the Lord filled my heart with such a precious love. A lifetime of beautiful memories.
My heart rejoices for you Lori and your new happiness. (I just watched your latest post) Praise God for His love and faithfulness, for His amazing provision in each of our lives. One of your posts first popped up on FB to me about 10 months ago at a time I desperately needed to hear what you were saying. I followed you since then.
In my grief and gratefulness I know without doubt.. GOD is Good, He will never leave me nor forsake me. My go to verses for years are Proverbs 3:5-6. Praising Him, Trusting Him
Sue, thank you for sharing your heart with me. ❤️ Fifty-four years is such a beautiful testimony of love and faithfulness. I can completely understand why you still say you’re married and why keeping your rings on is meaningful to you. There is no right or wrong way to honor the love we shared with our spouses.
What touched me most was your ability to hold both grief and gratitude at the same time. I truly believe that’s where God’s peace often meets us—not because the pain disappears, but because His faithfulness becomes even more evident.
Thank you for celebrating this new chapter with me, even though your own journey looks different. That kind of grace is a beautiful reflection of Christ’s love. I’m praying the Lord continues to surround you with His comfort and the sweet memories of your precious husband until the day you’re reunited. God bless you, friend. ❤️
My husband Bill passed away 3 years ago. I was wearing my rings for a year after he passed away.
But people would ask me about my husband and where he works, etc. so it was more painful to me to tell I am a widow, so I decided to stop wearing it, because it was more painful to me to tell them that Bill passed away 💔
I miss Bill everyday, but I am trying my best to move forward, that’s why Bill would like me to. Trusting God that he is my husband and I have seen his hand over me.
Yanina, thank you for sharing your heart with me. ❤️ I completely understand what you mean about the rings. It’s amazing how something so small can carry such deep emotions, and every widow has to navigate that decision in her own way. There truly isn’t a right or wrong answer.
I love that you said you’re trying to move forward because that’s what Bill would have wanted for you. That doesn’t mean you love him any less—it simply means you’re trusting God with the life He’s still given you to live. Bill will always be part of your story, and I believe the love you shared will always be a beautiful part of who you are.
Thank you for reminding others that healing looks different for everyone. I’m praying God continues to give you strength, peace, and little glimpses of His faithfulness as you walk this journey. Thank you for taking the time to encourage me, friend. ❤️
Thank You for your story and all i can say is be HAPPY … Live Life for you …
Tricia, thank you so much. ❤️ Your words are simple but so powerful. For a long time, I wasn’t sure happiness would ever feel possible again. I’ve learned that choosing joy doesn’t mean forgetting—it means trusting God with the life He’s still given me. Thank you for celebrating this chapter with me. God bless you! ❤️
After losing my Robert April 13, 2024 my whole life collapsed. we were married 54 years and together 57 years. i wake up many days and say what am I to do today? Robert’s death was so unexpected. Taking off my rings is just not something I want nor am I ready to do. I still have his clothes in our closet. o am moving forward as I have made the decision to sell the house and scale way back. I know it is something that he would want me to do. the memories will go with me. we were talking about sizing down so I know that has helped me
I. Luke you, trust my Lord has been with me and has guided me in my decisions. We all have to make hard decisions as we walk this life that we did not want. As I walk into new doors, I ask for your prayers. I will always love my Robert, the love of my life. He loved me like no other could. prayers, hugs, and love to you. I just happened upon your Instagram shortly after we both lost our loves. Thank you for caring and sharing your heart. Many days you say exactly what I need to hear. Thanks, Lori and God Bless.
Lois, your comment brought tears to my eyes. ❤️ Fifty-four years is such a beautiful lifetime of love, and Robert will always be a part of who you are. I admire your courage as you take these difficult steps, knowing the memories will go with you wherever you are. I’ll absolutely be praying for you as you walk through this new season and into your new home. Thank you for trusting me with your story and for allowing me to be a small part of your healing journey. Sending you the biggest hug. 🤍🙏
I find such inspiration in your heartfelt posts. My husband passed away tragically and unexpectedly on my birthday in June, 2024 at the age of 56. I have been wearing his wedding ring with mine ever since his funeral. I have wrestled with taking it off yet find comfort in wearing it yet think after two years it should come off. I have not removed his clothes from our closet nor his clothes from his drawers nor his miscellaneous paperwork from his junk drawer. Part of me thinks he is coming back even though I know that is only in my mind.💔
Lynda, my heart aches reading your words. ❤️ There is no right timeline for taking off a ring or going through your husband’s belongings. Those are deeply personal decisions, and they don’t determine how much you loved him. Please give yourself so much grace. I remember wrestling with those same emotions. I’ll be praying that God gives you peace with each step, whenever you’re ready. Sending you the biggest hug. 🤍
I still wear my rings. My husband had brain cancer and went to Jesus in 2021. We were married almost 46 years and he was my soulmate…I dont plan to ever remarry and keeping my rings on is kinda a protection for me I guess. There really isn’t a reason for me to take them off. Every widow has to make that decision herself…I too am so thankful for our marriage and children. Thank you Lori for sharing your story with us.
Wanda, thank you for sharing your heart. ❤️ Forty-six years is such a beautiful testament to a lifetime of love and commitment. I completely understand why keeping your rings on brings you comfort. One of the biggest things God has taught me is that there isn’t a “right” way to navigate widowhood. Each of us has to prayerfully make those decisions for ourselves.
Thank you for celebrating my journey, even though yours looks different. That kind of grace is such a gift. I’m praying God continues to fill your heart with His peace and the precious memories of your husband. ❤️
My husband passed away November 2, 2024. I still carry him, very much alive, inside my heart. I still wear my wedding rings. I also wear his on my other hand. I’m not at a place yet where I feel comfortable removing my rings. He is still so much the love of my life.. we met late in life. Both of us married before. Three children each from those marriages. Im 77, soon to be 78. He, besides my children, was the best part of my life and I think for my children to. How do you let go of a life saver? Each day it is a struggle for me. Im doing well but grow tired of pushing forward. I’ve tried removing my rings but they go right back on. Im not ready yet. Ill take another look at this when I reach the 2 year mark. somehow that sticks in my head. For now walking with God and trying to take things one day at a time. Letting go and pressing forward hurts and can be very draining. Thank you for all your reels they’ve helped me perspective wise.
Merredith, thank you for sharing your heart with me. ❤️ First, I am so sorry for the loss of your husband. The love you have for him shines through every word you wrote.
One thing I’ve learned is that there is no timeline for taking off your rings. I truly believe it’s a decision between you and God, and no one else gets to decide when—or if—that day comes. I wore mine until I felt a quiet peace about it, and even then it wasn’t because I loved Quintin any less. It was simply because I knew our love would never be defined by a piece of jewelry.
Your husband will always be the love of your life, and nothing can take that away.
I love that you’re walking with God and taking it one day at a time. Sometimes that’s the bravest thing we can do. I’m praying He continues to give you peace for today and wisdom for tomorrow. Thank you for allowing me to walk a small part of this journey with you. 🤍
After David died unexpectedly at home, I wore my wedding ring for over a year. The ring was in need of some major work as it was over 30 years old. I made the decision to create a new ring at a jewelry design event instead of repairing my wedding ring. All the stones out of my wedding ring were combined with a diamond from one of my husband’s rings to create a new ring I call—- together forever. It turned out beautifully! I wear it every day and it is a lasting tribute to our love and life together. It will someday belong to my daughter. My diamond is marked with a small diamond chip so when she looks at the diamonds, she will know which one is dad’s and which one is mom’s.
Melanie, what a beautiful way to honor both your husband and your marriage. ❤️ I absolutely love the thought and intentionality behind creating something new from something so meaningful. Knowing your daughter will one day wear that ring and recognize both of your diamonds is such a precious legacy.
Thank you for sharing your story. It reminds all of us that there isn’t one “right” way to navigate grief. We each find ways to carry the people we love with us, and yours is incredibly beautiful. I’m so grateful you shared it here. 🤍