I had expected a long line of folks fetching vacation mail and sending packages. But the normally busy post office location was shockingly empty.

“I can help whenever you’re ready,” said the jolly looking woman behind the counter.

I was clutching a box, Sharpie, packing tape, stickers with my mailing address, and the item to be mailed.

With great hustle and bustle and organization and a deft hand using her own tape, the United States Postal Service employee had my package ready to go.

And without any sentimentality in this much quicker-than-anticipated moment, I mailed my wedding ring to a stranger in Trumansburg, New York.

I decided to sell my ring in 2011. It had been one year since my divorce and despite family and friend advice of making the half carat marquise shaped diamond into a necklace or another ring, I decided to get rid of it. It was a custom-made solitaire and a wrap doing nothing but sitting in a box.

I know very little about stones or gold. I’m not a material girl and although I do like jewelry, I could care less about ogling expensive items in Tiffanys. I went on a fact finding mission to a locally owned jewelry store.

I asked an employee if she would tell me the color, clarity, carat, and cut.

She took the ring and told me she’d be right back. She went to a corner to talk briefly with a man.

“We don’t want it,” she said and shoved the ring at me.

I told her I was merely looking for information about the ring.

“We don’t want it. No one buys marquise.” There was no expression on her face.

I thanked her and left the store. I was embarrassed.

I went to another jeweler. The person was much kinder but also told me marquise hadn’t been trendy for years. I found out the ring’s general value was about $1,800 and a private seller might pay $800 for it.

I tried a fellow scuba diver’s jewelry store. Rita is a savvy person I admire and respect and she told me the most about the ring including color, etc. Her family-run business is classy. She offered to buy the gold for $100, but didn’t want the diamond.

I listed the ring for around $600 on Craigslist and ebay.com off and on for two years. A few people checked it out but overall was ignored.

I wasn’t impatient or upset it wasn’t selling. I didn’t want to see it go.

The ring was symbolic to me and to sell it would really signal the end. I’d have to let go.

Plus I loved the ring’s simplicity and elegance. The solitaire sparkled and was lovely on my hand. I wore the solitaire nine years into the marriage until Steve insisted on buying a wrap to accompany it. My mother Ann was happy. It always bugged her I looked perpetually engaged, but not married.

Suddenly two weeks ago, a buyer on ebay sent me an email asking if I would sell the ring for $250 instead of $600.

I glanced at the ring gathering dust. I told the person I would list it for the lower price after the current auction ended.

The number of ring viewers and watchers exploded. Dozens of people crawled over the listing. SOLD.

It had happened. The ring was leaving my home.

But I wasn’t sad or angry. In fact, I was surprised at how little emotion I felt about the sale. Two years ago I would have wept.

It’s still perhaps for the best that the post office experience went zip, zip, zip.

There was no time to wave a last minute goodbye to that marquise-shaped ship.