Read previewOne autumn afternoon, while raking leaves, my husband, Rich, lost his wedding ring. We hoped the ring, possibly lost amid the browning landscape, would be shiny enough to catch our eyes. Our son thought we had splitWe'd been married for a decade by that point, and while it was odd to see my husband's ring finger bare after all that time, I didn't really give it much thought. AdvertisementOur middle son, Ben, a kindergartener at the time, and I were standing in the kitchen baking together months after the ring disappeared. "It's too bad Dad can't find his ring," Ben said.

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