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Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Born with a Lose-it Gene

Friday, August 17, 2012

My dreams have recurrent themes. One that is repeated often is that I have forgotten my room number at a hotel and every time the elevator door opens, it is on the same floor, the wrong one. Another is that I can't find my classroom or I am in a city and can't find the school back. Last night it was my dorm room. I not only could not remember which room was mine, I couldn't remember the names of my roommates. I was so glad to wake up in the midst of that dream and know I was in my own house.

I do lose things a lot. I made phone calls recently to locate a new pair of shoes I had taken along on a trip to St. Louis. No one had seen them. I was sure I would find them if I could get into their homes and look under the beds in their guest rooms. Then today I found them standing in line with my husband's shoes in his spot in the closet. I suppose I never asked him if he had seen them. I don't like to ask him to help hunt for anything because it too often ends up with him giving me a little sermon on putting things where they belong in the first place. Since I already know that solution but don't tend to act on it, I don't need the reminder. If I don't get a sermon, I at least get a sarcastic answer such as, "Do I look like someone who borrows women's shoes?" Today my answer would be, Well, maybe.

One of the most frustrating things I do is lose something that I forgot I had. I will be looking on a shelf for one thing and find a box containing a gift I didnt remember buying. That means I bought it way before I needed it and then bought a different gift when the time was right. There is a plus side to this. When I am suddenly in need of a gift and don't have time to go shopping, I have a small supply of unsent gifts from which to choose. It isn't all good. Are a pair of cut glass bud vases an appropriate response to a mans 65th birthday party? Everyone else will give him a T-shirt with a crazy slogan or a cap that declares he is over the hill. Watching him react to our gift of lovely vases would be interesting.

Something I lost very frequently in the past was my set of car keys. I would lay them down in a store while examining some merchandise and then spend the next hour trying to find them back. Keeping them in my purse isn't the answer. There was the day I was sure I had them in my purse but I couldn't find them. I went back into the cafe I had just left and searched the booth. Nothing. The proprietor came over and removed the seat of the bench to help in the search with no luck. Then he suggested I check any zippered pockets in my purse. Stupid suggestion! Did he think I had not already checked them? To show that I was listening to him, I dumped everything out of my purse and was thoroughly embarrassed to see the keys laying there amidst a lot of other junk. We put the booth back together and I left with an apology and a very red face.

I have solved that problem by clipping my key chain onto a pony-tail scrunchy. I wear the scrunchy like a bracelet with my keys playing the role of dangling charms. As a 2nd precaution, I have given them a guardian angel. A friend gave me a tiny sterling silver angel that now shares the key chain with the car key and house key. I no longer lose them.

Once I lost my entire car for half an hour in a city we were visiting. I phoned the police to report it missing and the officer asked where I had parked it. Outside the front door of the Younker's Department Store, I told him. A clerk who had listened to my sad story whispered, This isn't the front door. We found it once we looked in the correct parking lot.

I should set out the plaque my brother-in-law gave me after hearing one of these stories. The beautifully scripted plaque reads: Of all the things I have lost, I miss my mind the most. I will not set Merlyn's plaque out. I can't find it.

By Mary S. Roder
Musing With Mary

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