When I looked down at my hand, I realized why something did not feel right. The ring I had worn for more than two decades was not there. The last I remembered seeing it was in the men's room a few hours earlier.
I had taken up the habit of moving the ring to the "pinky" finger whenever it felt too tight. It probably fell into the drain unnoticed in the confusion of a crowded facility and the rush to get back to work. Whatever the reason, I was without my most treasured posession -- my wedding ring.