When you live with the fae

Let me tell you a story about living with faeries. As a child I grew up in a magical household, my Irish mother sprinkled in ancestral lore about the fae while dispensing other more socially acceptable antidotes and teachings. Whenever something was lost, and you knew exactly where you had left it, my Mother would reply, “Ask the faeries to return it.” We learned through the years that if you asked respectfully for the faeries to return something, and were patient, that it would most often reappear exactly where you left it or in a comically illogical location.


Mom also had a brownie who loved to play mischievous pranks on us, and my Mother always said that when the brownie was around it meant good luck for our family. Brownies choose to live with one family and are usually attached to a particular person in that family, and when that person dies the brownie either adopts a new family member or moves on. After my mother passed I was blessed to be chosen by the family brownie, and he moved in with my family, but that is a tale for another day.


Fast forward to yesterday. I’m doing the mundane task of putting coffee cups away in a cupboard, and those of you who follow me know how much coffee I consume, when I felt my wedding band slip off my finger. I froze and listened for the titanium band to chime as it bounced off something hard – but there was no sound. I looked at the counter and spied an open bag of cat food and thought, “Ah, it fell in there. I’ll get it out after I finish the dishes.”


After the chore was done, I tipped the bag this way and that – no ring. I got out some newspaper and poured the cat food out, patted it flat, no ring. I began to take all of the coffee cups off the shelves and look inside to see if it had fallen into one of them – nothing. Next, I began to search in unlikely places including the garbage disposal – nothing. Trashcan – nothing. Recycling bin – nothing. Out of possibilities, I began to question whether or not I had actually felt the ring slide from my finger in that moment or if I had lost it earlier and hadn’t realized it. I searched my bed, car, garage, freezer, and so on – nothing. Then I heard my Mother’s voice, “Ask the faeries for it back.” Nodding to her sage wisdom, I did just that, plus I gave our brownie a fresh shot of whiskey – the good stuff – and waited.


My hubby came home, and I had to tell him that I had lost my wedding band. The wonderful, loving soul that he is, he began searching for me without any recriminations or guilt; he just wanted me to find my ring. He searched all the places that I had searched earlier, including taking down and shaking all of the coffee cups and standing on a step stool to see all the way back into the cabinet, nothing. We began joking that perhaps he’d have to buy me a new band for Valentine’s Day, but we both knew that what I really wanted was my original ring back. He agreed about the faeries, after over 30 years of marriage he gets it, and we settled down to have dinner.


At the end of the night, we were still discussing my missing ring as I opened the cupboard to take down a cup for a nightcap and as I pulled the nearest cup out there it was – my wedding band, tucked into the handle of the cup I was pulling down. I was in shock, and I started laughing. When hubby saw it, he laughed too. We looked at each other and then said in unison, “Thank you faeries.” Because you MUST always thank them when they return your stuff. I also immediately went outside and made them offerings of mead to show my appreciation. Yes, traditionally the fae offering is milk & honey, but through the years my faeries have let it be known that they prefer mead and I am not about to argue with them. DO NOT piss off the faeries!


I think this was the magical universe reminding me that magic is real and not to become so bogged down in the evils of the world that I forget the joy of the unseen.


Thank you faeries for borrowing my ring and thank you for returning it. I will work on remembering that life is magic.