Days of Petanque: Lost and Found

Subject: Days of Petanque: Lost and Found

Date: February 26, 2020 at 7:44:15 PM PST

Call off the FBI. Maggie has found her floppy hat. It was folded and stored on a closet shelf. Those dang borrowers.

I am constantly losing things. Sometimes I find them. Sometimes not.

Usually I find them right where I left them. In that case what I really lost was the memory of where I left them.

When I never find things it's because they've been taken or they've moved on their own accord.

Take my phone for instance, sometimes in the morning it's not on the charger where I am positive I left it.

It's usually still in my pocket, or in my truck having fallen under the seat, or on the kitchen counter clutter.

When I can't find something for a while, I become convinced someone has stolen it, even though no one in their right mind would want whatever it is that's missing. Then I find it. Of course then I remember why I left it wherever I found it.

Sometimes I lose something. I find it. And then lose it all over again.

When I was younger that happened with my girlfriends. Once it happened with an ex-wife. Some things are better left lost. But not Higgins. I hope to find him in Tucson if I chance to visit in search of lost family connections.

Finding a lost thing is sometimes a matter of vision or focus, like when I'm looking right at it, but not seeing it.

It happens with opportunities, with that chameleon of an object, my phone (I'm convinced it moves or changes what it looks like until just before Sheila points right at it), my glasses (sometimes while I'm wearing them), any number of tools in my Where's Waldo of a garage, my keys, the charger cable to my: phone, camera, bluetooth speaker, flashlight or iPad.

Sometimes I lose my way. Driving after dark I can get turned around and end up heading for Petaluma instead of Glen Ellen. Or if I'm listening to a particularly exciting chapter on an audible book I can drive right past the post office even though I told myself when I got in the truck not to do that.

When I lose some things, like a match in petanque, I'm never going to find it again. It's just gone.

But somethings, like those matches (too many to count) don't worry me too much. I guess it's a matter of how much you want it. Why you want it. What difference does it make if you lose it.

Some things it's better to just let them go. Like your children. Well not so much your children as their childhood. You miss them, but is the nature of somethings to change. They have to find their own way, live their own lives. If they get lost, the best you can do is let them know how to find their way back home. Even in the dark.

Take care. I'll leave the light on for you.

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And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance

—"I Hope You Dance" by Lee Ann Womack