Lost and Found

We’ve all lost something, sometime or another.  When something gets lost around the house, I take it personal.

Losing stuff, seriously peeves me.  Why?

Maybe it comes from the concept of “put it back where it belongs.”  Or, “everything has its place.”  Why isn’t it there?

My annoyance with this issue of losing stuff stems from the original effort I’ve taken to organize our stuff in the spirit of efficient household maintenance.

Do you remember the “domestic goddess” of Rosanne Barr’s stand-up comedy?  I might be one of those.  I probably can’t blame my “organizational skills” totally on Barr.  After all I took a charm class in travel school in 1973, and possessed a book touting the etiquette and graces of home-making.  So, there’s that.

We own a small house.  Importantly, we like our home’s tidy size.  I do not wish for a bigger place.

There are limits, however, as to the amount of stuff we can have in our small living space.  This is a good thing as it applies to living simply.  But it requires constant maintenance, kind of like advancing gray hair, an expanding middle, and perms.

Things not “where they belong,” is a battle which I continually lose in my household.  And right now, ours is a household of two.  Hm.  I wonder who doesn’t put things away.

You’ve surely heard of the open concept for living space.  Well, my husband has taken this concept way too far.  If he, had it his way, everything would be left out in the open, and I’m not talking about things psychological here.

My spouse would like nothing to be put “away.”  From food to tools, laundry to books, papers to clothing, my husband would leave it out if left to his own devices.

That is, until something important is “lost.”  Then, we fall back on the old adage, “if mom can’t find it, nobody can find it,” or in our case “if the wife can’t find it, it can’t be found.”

One can lose a game.  We win some and lose some.  Unless we always lose, then it’s not losing the game that hurts, it’s losing hope that can cripple a person, labeled “loser.”

We lose items all the time.  If we call this “misplacing” an item instead of losing it, hope remains that it can be found.  I usually fall back on, “it has to be here somewhere.”

Depending on the value you place on the game or the item, we can recover from these losses.  If truth be told, misplaced items are usually found. 

You know stories of your coffee cup on the car roof, the tissue box in the refrigerator, car keys in the bathroom, and your debit card slipped neatly into that mystery space between the driver’s seat and the middle console of your vehicle.

I once “lost” my wedding ring, found in a McDonald’s carry-out bag.  That one caused a tidy panic for a very long, few minutes.

And, fortunately most of us have been rescued by a Good Samaritan, who found an irreplaceable, lost item, only to return it safely into our hands.  But this brings to mind the troubling difference between lost and stolen.

There was the time, I still haven’t completely recovered from, that I left a favorite item of clothing at a hotel.  It was a plain white cotton blouse with a little bit of stretch, ideal for travel because it was comfortable and went with everything.

After arriving home to discover the blouse missing, I called the hotel to inquire if my blouse had been turned into their “lost and found” department.  It hadn’t.  Hm.

I was referred to “housekeeping,” for further investigation.  Where else would one find a lost item than housekeeping?  No joy there.

The monetary value of that blouse was nominal, at best.  But the practical value to its owner was invaluable, with a commensurate level of distress at its loss, that has never really diminished or resolved.  I temporarily vowed not to stay at that hotel chain again, but, well, time has mellowed me and forgiveness has taken precedence, but I will never forget the loss of that blouse.

So, all things lost, are not found Even when we lose weight, sometimes we manage to permanently leave some of it behind.  Other times, we find every pound and then some.

Even when we lose precious people or pets, we seem to find them again in our memories, dreams, visions, photographs, and in everyday items that “remind” us of them.  Thusly let’s celebrate another holiday that I just made up, Lost and Found Day, on May 31st.

We could personalize Memorial Day this year to commemorate not only those who died in military service, but those we knew and loved who died from wounds sustained in any of life’s battles, whether it be addiction, sickness or disease, heartbreak, or their life timed-out way too soon for us to ably accommodate.

Let’s celebrate together, a united acceptance of things lost, but mostly, all things, found.




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