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 will be gone 3 years in sept. I also took my ring off after a little over a year of his passing. I also am keeping mine for my daughter and don’t want anything to happen to it! Love and prayers!
Took mine wedding bands off after 39 yrs of marriage….and Derek graduating to heaven on Jan 14 2024 ..this year 2026 ..it’s was tough
Angelica,
Thirty-nine years of marriage is such a beautiful love story.
I smiled through tears when I read, “Derek graduated to heaven.” What a beautiful way to describe it. Even knowing where our loved ones are doesn’t make the separation easy, does it?
Two years is still such a tender season in this journey, and I completely understand when you say taking your bands off was tough.
Thank you for sharing your heart and reminding us all that every widow reaches these milestones in her own time.
❤️ Lori
🌹 Thank you so much for sharing your heart with us, Lori.
I’ve often watched and wondered about your decision regarding your wedding ring and I found your explanation truly exquisite.
As of today my dear husband has been gone 807 days.
We were friends for 42 years, married almost 22 years, together 28.
For now, I’ll continue to wear my rings. They bring me comfort and yes, help me feel safe. My husband’s career was in law enforcement so I lived life unafraid. That said, I’ve always known that God “has my six.” Today, I know He still does. He is my greatest comfort. Without Him I am nothing.
Again, thank you for sharing your journey with us, Lori.
May God bless you and yours always and in all ways.
💫❤️✝️❤️💫
Linda,
Thank you so much for your kind words.
I have to admit, I knew people noticed whether I was wearing my ring or not, but I never imagined how many women were quietly wrestling with the exact same questions and emotions.
The truth is, there wasn’t one moment or one reason. It was a journey, and even then it felt complicated. That’s why I wanted to share it honestly.
Thank you for reading, for understanding, and for being part of this conversation. The vulnerability and wisdom shared by women in these comments has been such a gift to me.
❤️ Lori
One year later. I took mine off a few months ago. At the time, I want sure why but reading your words fit. I am on a journey and whatever the future brings, I am ready for it because of my 44 years with my husband. The ring was not him or what we had together.
Michelle, thank you for sharing this. ❤️ I love what you said: “The ring was not him or what we had together.” That is such a powerful perspective.
Removing my ring didn’t diminish the love Quintin and I shared—it simply marked a personal step in my own journey with God. Every widow’s path is different, and I truly believe we each have to follow the timing God places on our hearts.
Thank you for your encouragement, and I pray God continues to guide every step of your journey. ❤️
We were married 41 years, 11 months and 17 days, (but who’s counting??) when my husband went to be with Jesus. It’s been 20 months, and I still wear my ring. Like you said, its protection in a cruel world, and I’m not looking for someone else. So for now, I’ll wear it. Maybe God will reveal to me when the time is right to remove it.
Bonnie, thank you for sharing your heart. ❤️ Twenty months is still so fresh, and there is absolutely no right or wrong timeline.
I smiled when you said your ring feels like protection because I remember feeling that way too. When the time is right, you’ll know. And if that day isn’t today, that’s okay too.
Give yourself so much grace. God will make your next step clear when it’s time. I’ll be praying for you. ❤️
Tomorrow will just be 5 weeks since my husband passed. I have started wondering what to do about my ring and then feel guilty that I even think about it. I love jewelry and couldn’t stand to not have a ring on that finger. I have found one that keeps calling me and to me represents eternity and my love for him. I hesitate because i am not sure I am ready to replace it and also because I wonder what others will think. I think too that at some point the ring I have picked out may no longer will be available. Or do I get it now so that when I am ready I will have it?
Jill, my heart goes out to you. ❤️ Five weeks is such an incredibly tender season. Please don’t feel like you have to make any decisions right now.
I remember wondering many of the same things. One thing I’ve learned is that there is no deadline and no “right” timeline. Whether you continue wearing your ring or choose to remove it someday, let it be because you’re ready—not because of what anyone else might think.
Give yourself permission to grieve, to heal, and to take one day at a time. I’ll be praying for you as you navigate these first difficult weeks. ❤️
My mom gave me her ring after my dad passed away over 24 years ago. He was 58 and had a massive heart attack. I wore it proudly until this past Christmas when my husband asked if I’d like a different stone in it. At first I didn’t want to but I did. And what I was able to do was to have the jeweler make a pendent from the stones of my mom’s ring into a necklace for her to wear. So, I still have the beautiful band with a new stone and wear her wedding band with it and she has her ring, just in a different form 💜
Jane, thank you so much for sharing this beautiful story. ❤️ I love that your mom found a way to honor your dad while carrying his memory close to her heart. What a meaningful gift.
There are so many beautiful ways to honor the people we love, and I think that’s what matters most. Thank you for sharing such a thoughtful idea and for taking the time to encourage me. ❤️
It’s been almost 2 years (9/24)and I feel guilty and I feel like
Something is missing if I take my rings off! Thank you for sharing! My heart hurts….this really helps
Toni, thank you for sharing your heart with me. ❤️ Please don’t feel like there’s a “right” timeline. I remember feeling that same guilt, and I wrestled with it for a long time. One thing that brought me peace was realizing that taking my ring off didn’t remove Quintin from my heart or erase our marriage. It simply acknowledged that our marriage on earth had been fulfilled. Give yourself grace. You’ll know when—or if—the time is right for you. I’m praying for you. ❤️
I am still wearing mine and I wear his around my neck. Some Days it feels heavy, others it gives me comfort. My John has only been gone from this world for 7 months after 24 1/2 years of marriage. I haven’t a clue when I will be ready to take it off. I love the idea of the Box. My first husband, father of my children died 4 years ago. I wish I had that box to put it in to leave to my children. It would mean so much to them. Thank you for sharing.
I also wear my ring and have my husband’s around my neck hanging on a heart. He passed away in June of 2024.
Vicki,
Thank you for sharing that. I love the image of carrying your husband’s ring close to your heart on a necklace. What a beautiful reminder that while the ring may change places, the love never does.
One thing I’ve learned through all of these conversations is how personal this decision is for each widow. There is no right way and no wrong way—only the way that brings peace to your heart.
Thank you for being willing to share your story and encourage others who may be wrestling with the same decision.
❤️ Lori
I love this. I actually was the opposite, looking at my ring made me physically want to throw up. I tried my right hand. It didn’t work either. Now two years in as of 4/14/2024, I can finally wear it and feel peace and happiness. So many opinions, but no one has the exact same story/reaction. We have now gone through a college graduation and a wedding of our four children. With each milestone, its extremely emotional but also moves us forward in healing. So glad my sister found you at the same time my world fell apart and made me follow you.. ❤️
Ellen, thank you so much for sharing this. ❤️ I love that you said no two stories are exactly the same, because that’s so true. What brought one person peace may not be what brings another peace, and that’s okay. I’m so thankful you’ve found healing through each milestone, even while carrying the emotions that come with them. Thank you for following along and allowing me to be a small part of your journey. Sending you a big hug.
A few days away from 3 years for me. Still wearing it but thinking more about moving it to a different finger. A friend took hers off early , that was right for her. Our timelines are all different and all choices are the right choices.
My love of this man will not change, the amazing memories I have will not change, he is forever a part of my heart. Time will tell if my ring finds a new home. Thank you for just knowing how much our rings mean to us and expressing it so beautifully 💕
Marnie, thank you for this beautiful perspective. ❤️ I couldn’t agree more—our timelines are all different, and there isn’t a right or wrong way to honor the love we shared. Our rings are such a deeply personal symbol, and whatever brings peace is the right choice. Thank you for reminding others to give themselves that same grace. Your words will encourage so many women reading these comments.
We all are different and unique in our journeys through this life and dealing with the loss of a spouse is no exception. My husband of almost 52 years passed away 9 years ago. We “met” in first grade, fell “in like” when we were 14 and married right after we graduated high school. We never dated anyone but each other. I hardly have a memory that he isn’t in. Like you, I am so grateful for our love story and marriage. Looking back I see how profoundly present God has been throughout our entire relationship and still is in my current life. I am so blessed. I have chosen to wear my ring simply because I still feel married. I am just as in love with my husband as I ever have been. He has just gone ahead to a place that I am only a breath away from. Choosing to wear or not to wear a wedding ring is personal. We have our individual reasons for our choices and it’s no one else’s business. God bless you and your family.
Gloria, thank you for sharing your story. ❤️ Fifty-two years together is such a beautiful gift, and I can only imagine the memories you carry. I love what you said about every grief journey being unique. Thank you for taking the time to encourage not only me, but so many others who are reading these comments. Praying God’s continued comfort and peace over you. ❤️
I took mine off on the two year anniversary of his death. I just felt like it was the right time for me. I still occasionally wear it one my left hand.
Jill, thank you for sharing this. ❤️ I love how you said you just knew it was the right time. I think that’s exactly what it comes down to—peace. There isn’t a timeline that fits everyone, and I truly believe God gives each of us the grace we need for our own journey. Thank you for encouraging so many other widows with your story.
Thank you for being so open and sharing. Your words so eloquently described my challenge. I too am widowed 3.5 years and struggled with wearing mine (or not). I had friends judge me and tell me I should always wear it. I lost weight and I moved my wedding band to right hand. Each time I looked at it I was reminded of the love we shared and like you, the gift I was so fortunate & blessed to have, I miss it, I miss us, each & every day. The ring is an heirloom, it is not the relationship as that lives in my heart & memories forever. Now I must move forward without him here & let myself be open to God’s plan. I pray for peace and for HIM to continue to walk beside me (& you and all the other widows and widowers out there).
Christina, thank you for opening your heart like this. ❤️ One of the hardest parts of grief is feeling like everyone has an opinion about what we “should” do. But this journey is so deeply personal. I love what you said: the ring is an heirloom, but your relationship lives in your heart and memories. That is such a beautiful perspective. Thank you for praying for me and for all of us walking this road. I’ll be praying for you as well. ❤️
We all are different and unique in our journeys through this life and dealing with the loss of a spouse is no exception. My husband of almost 52 years passed away 9 years ago. We “met” in first grade, fell “in like” when we were 14 and married right after we graduated high school. We never dated anyone but each other. I hardly have a memory that he isn’t in. Like you, I am so grateful for our love story and marriage. Looking back I see how profoundly present God has been throughout our entire relationship and still is in my current life. I am so blessed. I have chosen to wear my ring simply because I still feel married. I am just as in love with my husband as I ever have been. He has just gone ahead to a place that I am only a breath away from. Choosing to wear or not to wear a wedding ring is personal. We have our individual reasons for our choices and it’s no one else’s business. God bless you and your family.
Gloria, thank you so much for sharing your incredible story. ❤️ What a beautiful testimony of a lifelong love. I especially appreciate your reminder that choosing whether or not to wear a wedding ring is deeply personal. There isn’t a right or wrong answer—only the one that brings peace to your own heart. Thank you for encouraging me and so many others with your wisdom. ❤️
Two years later & I’m still wearing mine without any intention of taking it off. But I do agree with your why & your decision. It does carry a different weight now & people assuming I’m still married. Maybe someday I’ll place it somewhere safe. But for now it will stay on my finger that my husband placed it on almost 27 years ago. Thank you for always sharing your heart. 💛