The Ring

Years ago, in our previous house, I’d lost my wedding ring.

I hadn’t lost it in your normal sense of the word nor consideration. No, “lost” isn’t exactly what’d happened.

“Disappeared,” is actually more accurate.

I had removed my wedding ring in the bathroom, this day, and placed it in the top drawer of the sink’s vanity unit. I did whatever I was doing, then later came back to the same drawer and went to put it back on—but it wasn’t there. I rummaged through everything, still couldn’t find it. I’m thinking, WTF? I put it right here.

But it wasn’t. There.

I stared blankly and in horror at that damned vanity drawer.

“Yeah, honey, heh-heh, you’ll never believe what happened. See, I took off my wedding ring, and it, heh-heh, disappeared….”

I removed everything from not only that top drawer, but also all the rest of the three or four drawers. Dumped everything out, and went through each individual item in my hands. Shined a flashlight in around all four corners of each drawer. There was a plastic baggie or two with items in them. I removed each item, held them in my hands, and emptied the baggies. No ring. I ran my hand through each plastic baggie, because I’ve seen too many horror and paranormal movies not to. Ran my hands around the insides of each drawer. Removed each drawer, turned them upside down and shook them out.

No ring.

I replaced everything as it was.

Searched the rest of the house. Asked my wife if she’s moved or seen my ring—nope.

Ask my dog and two cats. Nope—but did I maybe want to throw things around and go for a walk, my dog asked?

Went on about my life for a day or so, or however long it’d been.

Then, sometime later, I went into that bathroom to get something out of that top drawer—and out pops something that “pinged” on the floor. I looked.

My wedding ring.

Incredulous, I picked it up and held it up before my eyes.

There it was, in all its glory! For real!

I’d looked high and low, removed everything from all the drawers and ran my hands on or my eyes over every square centimeter of all the drawers and items within those drawers, and it was not there.

Yet, out it had just popped, from the very drawer in which I had, indeed, placed it.

When I write my novels and short stories, I do frequently place stuff that has really happened in my life into my stories. This happened years before my disappearing grape. In my soon-to-be-released novel, Psychic, I have my protagonist, Lizzie Gordon, also deal with a similarly misplaced ring of her own. Weird shit like this does happen to me every now and then. I can’t explain it, but it keeps my life interesting. Fun. Pay attention to the weird shit that happens in your lives. Acknowledge it. Don’t have to be able to explain it.

Hopefully, it’s fun, like mine.

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