The crackle inside of things lost

a reflection on loss, searching, finding, and angst

Here’s a just a little story I’m sending out as I think about things.

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I’m wondering about doing a limited audio series, or a few, and what I want to accomplish in the new year, and finishing out this one. It’s the time of year where such things happen.

Two days before Thanksgiving, I lost my wallet. I was out at a store with my daughter. I came home and I remember setting my keys, phone, and wallet down, but nothing after that. This was good because I meant I didn’t leave the wallet out in public somewhere. Maybe.

The problem was that all the places I keep my wallet didn’t have my wallet and I began to doubt my memory. What if it fell out of my pocket in the parking lot? I didn’t bother thinking about it too much during the flurry of holiday bustle, but 5 days into the misplaced wallet, I started to get a lot more concerned.

It didn’t just turn up like things do at times. The gnawing worry about it crackled in my brain; it hummed in the background, all the time. It was a vigilance I grew to despise because it took so much out of me.

Finally, I torn the place up. I tipped the couch over and found 15 old tissues, a peanut, and 5 gummies wedged very deeply in the strange cervices you find in a furnishing that has reclining features to it. A few cats toy and a sizable ball of cat fur under the couch all met with the business end of the vacuum. It only has a business end. But, no wallet.

The black hole of the coach was my last resort. Every other place I had tried a number of times. I cried out to God, the angels, and the heavenly hosts for help. And when I finally phoned my husband, I was nearly devoid of hope and was warning him of the card canceling and id renewal hellscape process that awaited us. But, I thought I’d give it just a day or two longer. The crackling worry droned on.