I had not seen a certain pair of gold earrings for a couple of weeks. They were a gift and very dear to me, but I’ll be danged if I could find them anywhere, no matter how hard I looked.
You know how it is, when lost things have a sentimental value beyond their monetary value. It eats at you, day and night and night and day.
Last night, somewhere in that semiwakeful stage between one dream and the next, I thought about the last time I wore them, the night I was given another pair of earrings. I was in a hotel, eating dinner from room service.
That was when it hit me.
I sat bold upright in bed.
They had to be in the box the other earrings had come in. Surely that is what I would do, putting the old earrings in the new box after I put the new pair on.
My heart sank. I must have thrown away that box. I threw away a box just like it a couple of weeks ago. It was long gone to the landfill, I was certain.
It made me rather sad.
BUT, by a strange turn of events, the gift bag I had put that box back in, that had held other gifts, was beside my bed. I could reach in there to check, couldn’t I? Yet if I did and confirmed that it really was gone, I would feel even more lost. So instead I lay there in bed, willing myself to go back to sleep. That never, ever works, does it? Why do we even try? Finally, I just gave up and dug through the bag.
Please, please let them be there…
I held them up victorious, admiring the golden shine in the moonlight. Peace at last.
So there it is. At 2AM, I found the missing earrings and lost several hours of sleep.