Day 20: I'm a loser

Of things. Items with sentimental value.

When I was twelve my mom gave me a sapphire ring. I think it had been hers or perhaps another relatives. Within a year it was gone. As a teenager and young adult I went on to lose many more items. Some of them jewels, some letters and cards I had carefully set aside to read over and over again, cashmere gloves--the kinds of things one would want to hold onto.

As an adult I've become quite phobic about receiving gifts, especially small ones, those that pack a sentimental punch. Within the drawer of my bedside table, I have packed small boxes with mementos, jewelry, letters, and a scarf knit by my mother. She made it for me before Craig and I departed for Paris. She wanted me to have something beautiful for the trip. I couldn't bring myself to pack it for fear it would be lost in the city streets or on a bench in a museum.

Even with this sort of freakish vigilance, I still lose items. Only now I lose my children's keepsakes as well. This morning, I took Julia shopping with me. At some point, in irritation, she pulled off the little strawberry hat she wears in cold weather. It's a hat Grace wore, knit by one of my mother's oldest friends. Somewhere, perhaps in Target or another store, the hat was lost. Once I realized it was gone, I scoured the stores, one by one, Julia in arms, in search of the hat. Nowhere. Lost. Not Found. Not Turned In.

I'm heartbroken with this loss. I can't explain it. Perhaps my habit of loading items with enormous sentimental value sets me up for great disappointment. I broke down in tears when I told Craig it was gone. He tried to soothe my grief, but he can't change my achilles heel.

I'm a loser.
Of things.
Items with sentimental value.