|
Copyrights reserved by the author. If you are in doubt, please click on 'Copyrights' and read the details. If I could only remember the place where lost things go! By J. G. Fabiano
"I have no clue what I did with my glasses." That is what my friend, Hank Daignault told me as he began his story. Hank and his family just bought a summer home in York. They did this for the same reason we all do this. He wanted to have his family spend their summers in one of the most beautiful places on earth. I expect that they will make a permanent move to York soon. At first I didn't see why a little absent mindedness should bother anyone but then I saw how upset he was. "For the past decade or so I have always put my glasses on the end table by my chair in the living room. It is a habit I have and I do it without thinking," he said. "But, one morning I reached for my glasses and they were not there. I spent the entire day looking for them and wondering what could have happened to them." It was obvious that he was not so much bothered by the loss of the glasses but the fact that they seemingly disappeared into thin air. He told me he asked his wife Stacey if she could think of anywhere his glasses might be but she told him what he already knew; that he always put the glasses on the end table next to his chair. As he told me his story I found myself wondering where lost things go. I have also lost many items and have no idea to this day where they went. I lost a pair of sunglasses last year. They disappeared out of the small drawer by the door that opens into our garage. At the time I thought I must have become careless and punished myself by squinting through the entire summer, but now I am not so sure it was my fault. I started to remember all the other things that just disappeared. A few years ago I lost my wallet. I specifically remembered putting it in the night table before going to bed but the next morning it was gone. That particular loss was very frustrating because I had to contact all of the credit card companies and the Department of Motor Vehicles. I was pleased at the time to find out that no one had used my credit cards or license. But I still find myself wondering - where did it go? Just this morning I noticed that the little jar I have on my desk for paper clips was empty. I know I put a couple of extra boxes of clips in my closet but when I reached for them they weren't there. I asked my wife if she took them and she told me in a particular tone that she had little use for my paper clips. I then scoured my closet for the clips and found none. In the past I have lost many things. I have lost a set of keys, paperwork, books, a camera, a cell phone and many different kinds of garden tools. Once I even lost a pair of shoes. My wife thinks that my losing of things is simply a progression of my journey toward losing my mind but now I am wondering if there is a place where lost things go? Could there be a place in middle earth where all lost things go? Could Tolkein be right and there is a society of exotic creatures that inhabits the ground beneath our feet dares to confuse and frustrate us by taking what we think is important? These little critters must live deep within the earth and come out only at night. I suspect they have long ears and even longer beards. I doubt if they wear colorful clothes because they have never been seen. There is also a good chance that they are always smiling. I think they must wear soft felt shoes on their feet too because we never hear them when they come into our homes. Now that I think of it, when I lie in bed late at night and listen to all the strange noises, I used to assume they were just the settling of the house or the flow of water through the pipes. Maybe I was wrong. I know the portals they use to enter our world must be under the dandelions and other deep-rooted weeds in our yards. For most of my life I have struggled to pull out these weeds only to be frustrated by the fact that I could never get all of the root because it was too deep into the ground. Now I think I know why. Inanimate objects are not the only things we lose either. I wonder what happens to friends and lovers we have known earlier in our lives? Have they also gone to a place where they can never be found? What about the ambitions of our youth? Were they also snatched away in the middle of our lives and stolen from our memories so we would not mourn their loss? Of course they sneak back to us every now and then in the form of dreams. It is almost as though they have to. These dreams don't only have to take place at night. They also come in the form of daydreams that make for welcome diversions in the middle of the day. Could there be a place in middle earth where all these dreams and memories go? Can you imagine what a place like that would look like? It would have to be a colorful place. The air would have to be fresh and filled with the scents of peace and prosperity. This must be the place inhabited by the small creatures who steal our things and who perpetually have a smile on their faces. I left my friend's house that night feeling decidedly out of step with the world. Fantasies are supposed to make us feel good, they are not supposed to be stolen from us. When I got home I felt in need of a small restorative scotch before going to bed. When I reached into the liquor cabinet my hands closed on -- emptiness! The bottle wasn't there. I allowed myself a small chuckle before going upstairs and thought that all those little creatures in the place where lost things go must have decided to have a party on me.
The End
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
