Losing Things

by joanabagano

I lost my eight-month old gray umbrella which happened to have been one of the longest I’ve kept. We had a love-hate attachment for a while and then it went, rather, I let it go without actually knowing I did.

It’s a frustrating feeling when things go missing just when you need them- a pen when you suddenly spot your favorite singer out in the streets, your cellphone when you wake up in the morning and you need to call someone because they asked you to become their alarm clock, a hankie when it’s hot, a notebook when a light bulb of ideas in your head is switched on.

It’s true, the value of things becomes more apparent when it’s time to use them. They’re just going to stay there until your brain tells you that you need a key to open the door or a toothbrush to clean your mouth.

And when you realize that they’re no longer with you, you can always replace them. A pen for a pen. A cellphone for a cellphone.

There would be a bit of mourning for the skin cells that went with the hankie and the words that had been landed on the notebook.

Ah, yes. Most of the time, you don’t mourn the things for the things, you mourn them for whatever bond you’ve shared. You may have owned it for a couple of years, therefore, you mourn because of time. You may have owned it for only a day, well, that’s still time.

A shoe because it fit you so perfectly. A watch because it was a gift from your mom.

Oh, but life goes on. Things come and go.

I got myself a new umbrella, by the way.

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