Losing My Mind (or at least important things)

Last night I had a scare.

No, I was not in the ER yet again. (Surprisingly, we have stayed out now for near
ly five months – better find some wood to knock on!)

No, there was not a sudden problem with a household appliance and neither was part of the house falling apart. (Another string of good luck on that one, although there is that funny toilet sound – hmmmm…….)

No, there was not a major car repair suddenly thrust upon me (unless I count needing brakes soon for the Dodge Ram . . .)

No, I simply lost something VERY important to me.

I repeat – I lost something VERY important to me!

Yes, Houston, er Crosby, er me – we have a problem. A big one!

I spent the greater portion of two hours searching every nook and cranny, all my little spots where I might have put something important. I remember moving it from a safe place to a safer place, but I couldn’t remember the safer place.

The spookiest part of the ordeal was that I have been deep cleaning my house


St. Athony, Patron Saint of Lost Causes (pic courtesy of pixabay.com)


for the past two weeks. I’ve moved furniture (well Twin A & Twin B did), I’ve cleaned out closets, drawers, cabinets, hutches, etc. I’ve reorganized entire sections of the house in an effort to make things work for me.

And – I will admit it  – no matter how painful it is – yes – I have been known to lose things forever after one of these cleaning obsessions, uh binges, uh episodes, uh – whatever.

The loss put my whole evening in a funk. I finally gave up and prayed to St. Anthony of Padua, the Patron Saint of Lost Things.

Dear St. Anthony, please come around, something’s lost and must be found.

I also asked the Blessed Mother to help me find it as well. After all, how many times a day do I unroll my tired bones and help my sons (who am I kidding – it’s usually Twin B) find their keys – their wallet – a particular shirt  – blah, blah, blah! (At least they don’t need to find themselves.)

I then went to bed, determined that, in the words of Scarlett O’Hara – “Tomorrow is another day.”

This morning, I took another gander at my hutch where I have my Blue Italian Dishes. (Why Blue Italian? Well, that’s another story for another day.)  Yes, I had pulled out the gravy boat, the sugar and creamer, the cups, the bowls, and had done so at least twice yesterday evening. But this morning – there it was – on top of a stack of serving plates.

Let me say that dear St. Anthony has NEVER let me down. I must admit, this is not the first time I have called upon him to get me out of a jam. (I won’t even go into how many times a day the Blessed Mother is there when I need her.)

And no, I won’t tell you what I lost. But  – at least it is now found.




One thought on “Losing My Mind (or at least important things)

  1. I was to fly to Australia to meet someone. He’s gone ahead. The night before I was to travel I went to fetch my passport. I could not find it ANYWHERE. I looked. I cried. I thought. I prayed. I searched. I repeated this cycle several times. I called QANTAS. “No, sorry. A copy of your passport is not good enough.” I begged the international operator to help me put through the call to alert him I wasn’t going to be there as scheduled. No answer. Back to the search, cry, think, pray cycle. I started to unpack when I had one last thought. I looked where I keep a journal and other items near and dear to me – and there it was – stuck between two books where I apparently put it after I recorded the number on it when applying for the travel visa. Knowing I’d need it again soon, I didn’t bother to put it back in the safe where it belongs. I know so well that panic feeling one gets when things cannot be found. Thanks for sharing this.

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