Lost Ring in Oahu!
The day just started off on a bad note. My father in law let the dogs out in the front yard by accident…again. Leina, my fiancé, dragged herself out of bed early to watch the dogs. Sasha, our oldest dog, was not the problem. It was Pa’a, the one year old puppy, who was trouble. He had a history of chasing anything he could hump.
By the time I woke up to greet my future wife, she looked like a crab surrounded by a tornado of hormones and moodiness. There was only one way to reclaim the day at this point. “We’re going out for breakfast,” I said.
We took the high energy dogs with us, being sure to give them a long walk before going to the diner. Then we planned to go hike to the Lighthouse at Makapu’u. But we only made it ¾ around the block before she turned around and gasped. Her look of panic hit me like a flash flood. It only took half a second for me to read her mind. I sprung into action, retracing our steps as she muttered the dreaded words, “My ring!”
It was gone. Leina walked like a stunned zombie, bare finger in tow. Before I turned the corner, I said, “I have a feeling that it’s back at the house, but I’m going to circle back just in case”. My heart pounded as I knew we only had a matter of minutes before someone else could pick up the ring.
Thoughts pounded in my head. “What do we do if it’s not at home? Does this mean I need to buy her a new ring? I can’t afford a new ring. My poor baby…I hope she’s OK.” Through the high speed flow of mental notes, an image of the chestnut dresser next to our bed floated into my mind. A wave of calm came over me as the feeling in my gut told me that the ring is by that dresser. But there was only one way to find out for sure.
Thoughts pounded in her head. “How did this happen? What is he going to think of me? Is he mad at me? The thought of going to work without my ring makes me feel ashamed. Where is it?!” I felt her fear all the way around the block.
By the time we reconnected, I had already sprinted around the block with Pa’a. No luck. I ushered the family back to the car. “We’re going home to look for the ring,” I said with urgency. Once Leina hit the passenger seat, the tears poured down her face. “I’m so sorry!” she sobbed.
“Don’t apologize. I think I know where it is.”
Believe it or not, this is not the first time I have recovered a wedding ring. My mom lost her ring once in our garden. The acrobatic ring jack knifed into the 3 inches of fresh soil she had just laid down. I have the distinct memory of my deceased great grandmother over my shoulder, guiding my hand to the pin point location of the ring’s burial ground. My mom smiled at the news that Great Grandma Kennedy was watching over us. The presence of my deceased Grandma Kennedy continues to be a comfort to me, something that many people experience in our Bloodline Healing workshop, where I put my intuition to work to help others feel their ancestors. Great Grandma helped us recover my mom’s ring. I look forward to seeing how ancestors help the participants at our next workshop at Brandeis-Bardin (near LA, California) on October 10th-13th of this year.
But, Leina never took off her ring. Her rude awakening this morning made her frazzled, so she lost track of the ring on her finger. Damn her low-carb diet! Her fingers had obviously shrunk, making the ring easy to lose.
I barged through the door to our apartment, and stood in front of the chestnut dresser. I tossed the top drawers like scrambled eggs. Nothing. Had I lost my mojo? Despite the calming vision, another surge of anxiety surfaced when the ring didn’t immediately turn up. The zombie arrived in the room, fussing with the little corners where she stored jewelry. Nothing.
“I keep seeing this corner of the room, babe.” She helped me toss the pile of laundry at the foot of the dresser. Our comforter had oozed off our bed during the night to attack the laundry pile, making it a huge lump of cloth. 3 layers later, Leina’s hand retrieved the hiding engagement ring. She held the ring in a waterfall of tears. The shock, the pent up drama, and her gratitude poured through her eyes. I held her, feeling relieved that my intuition had helped me in another heart wrenching situation. It turns out that sleeping with a psychic has its benefits. “I’m so glad that you have ninja skills, babe,” she said. “You were so confident that we would find it here. I’m so lucky to have you.”
Leina looked at me with relief. “You know, there must be a lesson in all this,” she said. “Yea. Life is telling us to do the laundry,” I replied.
For more information about the Upcoming Bloodline Healing Workshop at Brandeis-Bardin on Oct. 10th-13th, please go to gkhunter.com