We are planning to make a 6 hour road trip to attend a nephew's wedding. Our trips away from home usually involve delivering some of my husband's homemade goodies - jars of jam, pickles, frozen sweet corn, etc. This time we were asked to also bring a pile of storage boxes from our basement. We have been storing some of our youngest son's belongings. Brad is moving to a larger apartment and now needs his stuff. Responding to that request also answered a mystery we have had for some time.
My husband received an expensive pair of leather gloves for Christmas several years ago. He really liked those gloves. They were put away - somewhere - in the spring. The next year when winter winds were blowing, we couldn't find the gloves. Our house isn't very big, and I thought it was well organized. That may not be the fact. I looked in all the closets and drawers we use to store winter gear but did not find his gloves.
I have a strange habit when I lose something. I look where it should be and don't find it. Then I expand my search but every once in a while I return to the original spot to look again. That is where it is supposed to be. It has to be there. But, of course, it isn't there the 2nd, 3rd or 8th time I look any more than it was the 1st time.
I have remained aware of the missing gloves every year since we lost them. I clean out drawers and closets and in the back of my mind I wonder if this is the place I will find them. Since my husband claims he never loses anything, the idea he may have left them behind at some time was not being considered - at least, not by him.
The disappearance of his beloved gloves has remained a mystery - until now. He was loading our son's boxes in the van and came in to tell me he was also returning his golf clubs and a duffle bag of clothing Brad had left behind. I had never seen a duffle bag with Brad's stuff and went to the garage to see whether he had found a stash of clothing meant for the Goodwill store.
"That wasn't with his stuff in the basement. Where did you find it?" I asked. I recognized the bag. It was my Blizzard-Survival-Kit. I kept it in the trunk of our car for years just in case Iowa's winter weather turned wild when we were out and about. When we traded vehicles 3 years ago, I took it out of the trunk but had forgotten all about it since then.
"It's been sitting on the top shelf here in the garage for a long time," he said. "I figured it belonged to Brad and that eventually he would claim it."
A survival kit was supposed to have a large candle, an empty tin can, matches, bottled water, warm clothing, energy bars, etc. Everything you would need if stranded in a car in below zero weather. I know that I opened it occasionally to put in fresh candy bars and water. I opened it now, pushed aside a sweatshirt and there they were - the leather gloves that had disappeared several pairs ago. I have no clue as to why and when I put them into that bag. I must have had a good reason at the time.
"Now if only I could happen upon the pot-bellied crystal water pitcher I have not seen for four years," I muttered.
"How can you misplace something that big?" my husband asks in disbelief.
"I work at it," I said, knowing my sarcasm was lost on him. He probably believed that. "Think about it, memory doesn't become better with age," I added in further defense for my action. He frowned, thinking that over. He knows I like to have the last word so he didn't respond when I continued with my explanation, "Besides, a little bit of mystery adds spice to life. We need that."