Thursday, March 24, 2011

The Ring

I remember admiring one of my grandmother's rings when I was a little girl.  She would always wear it along with a couple of other rings but this one was special to me.  I thought it was the most beautiful ring in the world even if it was not the most expensive ring she owned.  I never asked the provenance of the ring, I don't know who gave it to my grandmother or when that took place.

The ring was very delicate and feminine.  I don't even know what it's was made of but it looked like platinum, with an intricate lace design on an hexagonal setting and in the middle of it, there was a very small diamond.  When my grandmother died, my mother started wearing it frequently.  I used to love it so much that my mother gave it to me as a present one day.

I was wearing it when I traveled from California to New York to visit a friend of mine a couple of years ago.  I was staying at her place for two weeks while my friend was in Mexico with her boyfriend.  The night of my arrival we went out for dinner to a Thai restaurant in the neighborhood.  When we returned, I went to the guest bedroom and realized I didn't know where my ring was.  I started looking for it then but decided after a little while that I would look for it during the day.  The next morning, once my friend left for the airport,  I unpacked my suitcase. I thought maybe my ring had fallen in the suitcase as I was taking out a sweater upon arrival the previous night.  However, even though I removed every single item in the suitcase, and turned the suitcase upside down a couple of times, I didn't find it.  I then moved every piece of furniture in the guest bedroom and in the living room and still I couldn't find it.  I looked in every possible nook and cranny in the apartment.  Nothing.

I then retraced the steps we had taken to the Thai restaurant the previous night.  I entered the restaurant and asked whether anyone had found a ring.  No one had found it.  At this point I was feeling desperate and sad.  I looked for the ring on the street in case it had fallen from my hand as it was slightly big on me but nothing, no ring to be found.  I returned to the apartment and looked for it again and again during the two weeks that I was there.  I cried a couple of times but I didn't find it.

I wasn't reconciled about losing the ring and I was upset at myself for being careless.  I kept telling myself it's only a material object, it doesn't embody my grandmother or my mother who are always with me.  I returned to California and, by this time, I was more at peace with the fact that I had lost the most valuable piece of jewelry I ever had.

Three weeks later I was traveling from California to a yoga retreat in Assisi, Italy.  I was very excited about this trip because I would arrive in Rome - a city I am in love with - and then take a train to Assisi.  I had packed less clothes than I took to New York so my suitcase was a little lighter which made it easier to take on the train from the airport to Rome and then from a Rome train station to Assisi.

Once I arrived at the Assisi train station I took a taxi to the hotel, I took my suitcase to the room to change clothes.  I was very happy to be there.  I laid the suitcase down on the floor to open the suitcase and start unpacking it and as I laid it down, I heard a sound: "clink".  The moment I heard that sound I knew it was the ring.  I knelt on the floor to see where it had fallen.  Somehow the ring that I lost in New York appeared from thin air and it was right there on the floor.   Half of me couldn't believe it but since I had known that the "clink" sound was my ring hitting the floor, I was not entirely surprised.

Only logical conclusion I could come up with was that my mother wanted me to have my ring back.  I also took it as a sign that she approved of this retreat.  There was absolutely no other explanation for the appearance of the ring thousands of miles away from where I had lost it originally.  The suitcase was locked so it's not like it finally dislodged itself from a secret compartment inside the suitcase.  This was a suitcase that had been to many places since that night in New York, several taxis, two different apartments, two different trains, up and down the stairs, etc.  I knew it was something that I couldn't explain in any other way than to accept something magical had happened.

The ring connects me immediately to those moments I spent together with my grandmother and my mother as I was holding their hands.   Whenever I held their hands, I would always say something about this ring.  It means a lot to me.  My mother knew that and that is why she returned it to me in Italy.  I only wear this ring for special occasions now, mainly when I have an event and I want to feel my mother is with me by just looking at the ring.

I know is a perfectly plausible explanation for what happened.  Spirits are known to move objects.  I have no doubt that this is what happened here.  I am deeply grateful to have it back.


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