Losing things is something that I have developed an advanced degree of capability in. A true talent. There are keys, remotes, pens, pencils, good luck charms, and important receipts buried in obscure crevices all throughout Middle Georgia that somehow, almost supernaturally, jumped from my pocket and disappeared never to see the light of day again. I can not even begin to tell you how long it takes me to leave my house when I am in a hurry because every single time I go to leave, my keys are not where they are supposed to be.
Lucky for me my wife has the exact same superpower. When our powers are combined we have the equivalent ‘losing power’ of the comet that took out the dinosaurs and lost their bones for eons. We have been on road trips multiple times where one of us managed to lose our keys in between a rest area bathroom and a parked car. I would also wager to bet that if one counted all the time we spent looking for our wedding rings that seemingly teleport off our fingers at random times that it would add up to at least half a year's worth of time. We even bought some of those Tile things you attach to easy to lose objects to find them with your phone...but we lost them too.
I began my ‘losing things’ career very young, so young that I can not remember the first thing I lost. What I do remember though, is the first piece of advice I ever got when it came to getting stressed out about losing a toy. I was at my grandmother’s house, which presented a whole new level of stress when losing something because she was something of a hoarder. I asked her to help me look for it and she replied. “I’m sure it will turn up. It’s always in the last place you look.”
I remember how profound I thought that statement was. Sure enough, I found what I was looking for, likely in a pile of ancient magazines and newspapers and cigarette ashes. But she was right. It was in the last place that I looked. How could she have known that? Certainly, this wisdom must have come from a lifetime of losing her own things.
I have gone on now for almost forty years with that statement bouncing around in my head anytime I get panicked about losing something. And everything I have ever found after being lost has ALWAYS been in the last place I look for it. It’s amazing. My grandmother, God rest her soul, was a genius.
Then, the other day my son lost one of his toys. He was distraught. We spent hours looking for it and finally I gave up. There was nothing more I could do. I sat down to give him some advice as he continued his search. “Son, I promise you, if you keep looking for it you will find it. It will be in the last place you look for it.
My son, 6 years old, looks at me, huffs, rolls his eyes, and walks out of the room. It was then I realized that statement was not wisdom. Not at all. It was sarcasm. A witty jab. It was the equivalent of “figure it out yourself kid because there is no way I’m digging through all this junk to find something you lost”.
This old lady razzed me when I was a child and it took me almost forty years to realize it. I have to wonder how many countless other truths that I hold dear are complete and utter nonsense. Probably most of my understanding of the world. Honestly, though, I am not sure if she won the long game or if I did, because still, every time I find something that is lost, I am still amazed it was in the last place I looked.