2019 The Joy of Finding

Steven B. Zwickel

February,  2019

I have never been a loser. That is, I have never been one of those folks who is always misplacing things or forgetting where they put them. {At least, I don’t make a habit of it} Now, in my sixty-ninth year, I have found myself fully able to experience the joy of finding things.

         In just the past week, I successfully recovered a green file folder, the cork lid to a rice canister, and a CD that I brought home from the library three long days ago. And then there is the slice of pizza leftover from the restaurant two nights ago.

         I never used to lose track of my things. Well, not often enough to get a reputation for being an airhead, at least. In fact, it is a point of pride with me that I have not lost a set of keys in over 50 years. {Full Disclosure: 27 years ago my keys slipped out of my pocket into the snow, where they were shattered by the snow-blower and the shards scattered across the driveway. The keys were not technically lost, but they were also not in my possession. Two of the keys belonged to my employer and would have cost me several hundred dollars to replace.          Fortunately, when the snow melted, I was able to retrieve the pieces of the broken keys and was therefore able to avoid being penalized for “losing” them.}

         I took apart the drawers in my desk and a large box of “papers I need to sort” looking for the green folder. I asked my wife, very, very politely, lest she feel she was being accused of “moving my stuff”, if she had seen it. I found it lying on my desk at my office, just where I’d left it so I would have it when I needed it. I felt relief with fair dose of foolish.

         The lid to the rice canister must have gotten knocked off when I was reaching for a bottle of wine to give a very helpful neighbor. This fellow helped me get my car out of an icy trap in the street on a cold, snowy night and he deserved a reward. My fingers were ice cold when I reached into the turntable cabinet and grabbed for the wine bottle, so I didn’t know I’d hit the rice canister. Later, I knelt down with a flashlight to look for it, but the rice canister lid was nowhere to be seen. I am fortunate to have a 6-year old grand-daughter who went in there with a flashlight for me and she also couldn’t see the lid. {The last time a granddaughter went into the turntable cabinet she curled up in there and went to sleep. That was almost thirty years ago}. I found the lid today when I reached in to get some flour. Mystery solved—it landed in an open plastic bin. It was a joyful finding and a relief to know our house is not haunted.

         The CD turned up buried in a pile of papers I have been working on. My wife had carried it into the house, so that was where I started my inquiries. I wasn’t nearly as polite to my wife, sorry to say, when I asked her if she’d seen it. So I ended up eating humble pie and apologizing. I would call this a mix of joy and embarrassment.

         Now, the only thing missing in my life right now is a slice of pizza that I wrapped in a napkin and carried home from the restaurant. I am pretty sure I took it out to the car, but what happened to it after that, I have no idea.

         It’ll turn up. When the weather warms up. One way or another. Right?