Lost

It seems that a part of my brain, namely a large portion of my memory, has been diverted to more urgent tasks involving the care and feeding of Miss Bee.

I used be responsible.

It started when I left my digital camera on a plane. Thanksgiving, 2007. David, Bee, and I were flying back from Texas. On the camera were photographs of my daughter taking her first steps. She has taken many steps since, but the loss of those precious photographs still stings.

I have lost all kinds of other things:

When moving from temporary housing to our permanent apartment, we lost all of Bee's short sleeve shirts, but only for a few months. A new tenant found them in a drawer at the end of September and a fat lot of good they did Bee then.

I lost the stone from my engagement ring; it fell out of the setting. Somewhere in this dusty city a tiny, imperfect garnet, signifying all the hopes of my future, is resting.

At Disney World, I left my sunglasses in a restaurant at Epcot center. Disney's Lost and Found thought that they found them, but they mailed me a pair belonging to someone else.

I left my camera charger in the outlet in a hotel. You would not believe how expensive that little piece of plastic to replace.

I forgot Bee's sweater on board a cruise ship.

My favorite pair of yoga pants are lost in my house. I have no idea how this is possible but I know I didn't lose them while out jogging.

Then, last week, I lost my identity card. Oh! the bureaucracy involved get that replaced. I shudder at the thought. --It was found! There are some small miracles. 01-14-09 --

In her poem, "One Art" Elizabeth Bishop writes the "art of losing isn't hard to master." I have never felt the meaning of her words so keenly. Losing is one art I need to unlearn this year.