The disappeared
I have been losing things lately. Among the disappeared: a diamond solitaire necklace (made from the engagement ring my first husband gave me), my heartrate monitor wristwatch, and my brand new ipod headphones (these turned up at the lost and found in the supermarket). Not insignificant articles. Oh, and the entire contents of my hard drive, which my husband would tell you was due to carelessness, but I'm telling you, that ibook jumped off the piano.
I have always been absent minded, but I seem to be on some kind of losing streak. I am becoming increasingly frustrated. What feels particularly awful is how long it takes me to miss these items. It's like they sneak off without my noticing. The diamond, for example, is something I have worn nearly every single day since it migrated from my left hand, to my right, and finally to the little dip in my collarbone. As with my grandmother's silver and marcasite ring and the plain white gold band and the green tourmaline solitaire Patrick gave me, I slept and bathed with it. I know, this is bad for jewelry. But not as bad as being lost, which is what happens when I take things off and put them down somewhere and which is what I guess I did with the necklace sometime between November 26, when my flickr set shows me wearing it at a dinner party, and December 16, when I noticed it wasn't on my neck.
I have been obsessively hunting for it. Not because it is a nice diamond, and worth a few dollars, but because it was a symbolic link between this life and the one before. I left St. John's in January of 1996 with nothing but my clothes and that ring on my hand. The person I am now bears almost no relation to the person I was trying to be then. It is an artifact of my past.
I am superstitious about jewelry. I believe the rituals around the giving of it, and the context in which we wear it, imbue it with magic and meaning. Like religious relics, or sacred text: what was simply an object becomes something else entirely. I believe if you lose your wedding ring, it is a sign, and you had better fire up your internal gps and determine your heart's coordinates.
It is hard for me to say what that particular necklace means to me, and why I am so bereft at its passing from my life. Maybe it was symbolic of something I hadn't let go of, and didn't know. Maybe a hard little stone of unforgiveness. Or maybe it stood for what was genuine about that relationship, in spite of all the falseness I put up between us.
Or maybe I am just a big loser, who can't take care of her stuff.
Now, if only the extra pounds I put on during Christmas (or more accurately, Carb-o-rama) would disappear.
I have always been absent minded, but I seem to be on some kind of losing streak. I am becoming increasingly frustrated. What feels particularly awful is how long it takes me to miss these items. It's like they sneak off without my noticing. The diamond, for example, is something I have worn nearly every single day since it migrated from my left hand, to my right, and finally to the little dip in my collarbone. As with my grandmother's silver and marcasite ring and the plain white gold band and the green tourmaline solitaire Patrick gave me, I slept and bathed with it. I know, this is bad for jewelry. But not as bad as being lost, which is what happens when I take things off and put them down somewhere and which is what I guess I did with the necklace sometime between November 26, when my flickr set shows me wearing it at a dinner party, and December 16, when I noticed it wasn't on my neck.
I have been obsessively hunting for it. Not because it is a nice diamond, and worth a few dollars, but because it was a symbolic link between this life and the one before. I left St. John's in January of 1996 with nothing but my clothes and that ring on my hand. The person I am now bears almost no relation to the person I was trying to be then. It is an artifact of my past.
I am superstitious about jewelry. I believe the rituals around the giving of it, and the context in which we wear it, imbue it with magic and meaning. Like religious relics, or sacred text: what was simply an object becomes something else entirely. I believe if you lose your wedding ring, it is a sign, and you had better fire up your internal gps and determine your heart's coordinates.
It is hard for me to say what that particular necklace means to me, and why I am so bereft at its passing from my life. Maybe it was symbolic of something I hadn't let go of, and didn't know. Maybe a hard little stone of unforgiveness. Or maybe it stood for what was genuine about that relationship, in spite of all the falseness I put up between us.
Or maybe I am just a big loser, who can't take care of her stuff.
Now, if only the extra pounds I put on during Christmas (or more accurately, Carb-o-rama) would disappear.
Labels: soul and spirit
—Kyran, 6:33 AM
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2 Comments:
I get so busy thinking/daydreaming that I continously misplace my stuff. Jewelery and my bank card are top on my list. I am still missing a ring I bought years ago, I was ticked at my husband for something and I figured I deserved a present. Whatever the resentment was it was resolved and then one day the ring was gone.
I believe everything happens for a reason and when I consciously live in the moment I lose less.
I don't know if this helps but yesterday on my way to speak at a facility I was thinking about what I was going to say, I went to the washroom and as my keys were slipping out of my hand I tried to keep them from falling into the toliet and proceeded to spill hot tea down the front of my shirt and then I had to retrieve the keys from the bowl! You are not alone. :)
ugh! i know this feeling so well. for me, it's something between dread (could it really be gone forever this time?) and denial. i did this dance with a fantastic pair of earrings that dave gave me after carter's (horrific) birth. they were so lovely but i kept losing them, until dave said, i know you think if you lose those earrings for good, you'll be able to forget about carter's birth. which pissed me off because it was so true. and then i DID lose them, when i decided i should stop trying. i have absolutely no idea when or where, but they have been gone long past my usual turnaround time.
*sigh*
i hope you find your necklace, and better yet, that you find the courage to believe you are still that girl in some ways and that nothing can sever the thread that weaves your amazing story together.
lots of love.
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