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.
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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