Iron Ring

Yesterday I lost my iron ring. After wearing it since 2004 it has gradually became a part of me. The rough edge has been smoothed down day by day and time has polished the ring from dull to shine. Even now that it’s gone, I can still somehow feel it rubbing against my skin, between the right pinky and the ring finger.

I received my Iron Ring on my final undergraduate year of engineering at the Univeristy of Victoria. Quoted from IrconRing.ca, “The ring symbolizes the pride which engineers have in their profession, while simultaneously reminding them of their humility. The ring serves as a reminder to the engineer and others of the engineer's obligation to live by a high standard...(www.ironring.ca)”

To me, it’s not so much as in having the glorious engineering pride or showing off my so-called higher education. It’s just a piece of Canada that traveled with me all the way to Australia, along with the beautiful memories of UVic, and all my dear friends who fight with me during the battles of examinations for the last five years. It reminds me of how happy I was, and how I should stay joyful.

Yet I shouldn’t be so sad, after all the ring is resting peacefully somewhere in graceful Canberra, and I shouldn’t make such beautiful ring a burden for myself. Remember, for everything, anything, there is always something for replacement.

And of course, everything has an exception…