His first one slipped off his finger in the cold Atlantic waves on our very first warm weather vacation as newlyweds. It was thick gold and I replaced it with its twin on our first anniversary. Nine years later, it slipped off his finger while butchering chickens and we borrowed a metal detector, which went off at each step. Old farms = many nails and old spoons but no ring. Browsing in Wally world one evening, he tried on a tungsten carbide ring, twenty bucks, and wore it home.
All of a sudden, we didn't match anymore. Mine gold, his silver colored. Until this past Christmas. I love, love, love my new wedding ring. And I love that we match again.