Lost

I knew I would never see them again.

I loved my green earrings. I bought them last year at an art and craft show; they were made by Robert Riffe of Mystic Crystal.I had never paid that much for a pair of earrings before, but this was a reward to myself after a successful year of storytelling. In the grand scheme, $60 isn't a lot of money, I guess, but for me it seemed like a lot to spend on something that wasn't useful, like a canner or something. The green earrings were beautiful, and I loved them.

They were made with a green stone called prenite, set in silver in the shape of a dancing woman, with a little bit of citrine at the top. I wore them all the time, even if they didn't really match what I was wearing. When earrings are that pretty, they go with anything in my opinion. Every time I wore them, someone commented on their beauty. That's probably why I lost them--I liked them too much.

I wore them to the family reunion in May and once again several people commented on their shape and color. I really loved the way the earrings felt, the soft silver occasionally rubbing against the side of my neck. They just felt good, you know?

I was careful when packing to come home. I made a mental note of where I had put the earrings, zipping them snugly into the suitcase. It wasn't the place I should have put them but we were hurrying, and I'd remember, right?

Wrong. When I unpacked I wasn't thinking about the jewelry stashed in the wrong place. It was a week or so later when I wanted to wear them again that I realized the green earrings were missing.

I wasn't worried. I knew I had zipped them in the suitcase. All I had to do was look again.

I looked. And looked. And looked again. No earrings. Well, I thought, I must have put them in another bag. I searched every single bag we had taken on the trip, even checking my purses because I thought perhaps I'd traded out purses after the reunion. No luck.

I sorted out my jewelry box. I sorted the mad jumble in the top drawer of my dresser where I am sure dead bodies could lurk and not be found. No green earrings.

After six months of intermittent brainstorms and searches, I gave up. The earrings were gone, that's all there was to say about it. I sent up a prayer that whoever had found the earrings (for I was sure I must have left them in the cabin we rented for the reunion) loved them as much as I did. I'd given a really nice gift to a stranger. There was nothing to do about it but go on.

I did do one thing about it, though--when I went to the craft show again this year, I bought not one but three pairs of earrings from Robert. Not the same ones--he didn't have another pair like them. Of course not--they were one-of-a-kind, just made for me. Well, not really, but you know how I felt.

We've been on many trips since the reunion. The suitcase has been in and out, packed with everything from clothes to puppets. Each time, I searched one more time for the earrings, feeling pretty stupid as I did so. They were gone. I knew that.

When we returned from making fruitcakes with my sisters recently, I unpacked again. As I removed small items from a front pocket on the suitcase, I felt a small hole. Really small, about the size of my little finger tip. Could the earrings have slid into that tiny opening?

Honestly, I told myself, don't you ever give up?

Self answered, No. I'm stubborn and hardheaded.

Wrongheaded, I told Self.

Self wasn't listening. Self was poking a finger into the hole.

And the finger came out with a green earring, and then its mate.

So now I have them once again. For how long? That's hard to say. It's been my experience that things that get lost once tend to do so over and over and it's best not to get too attached to them. But for now, I have my silver favorites back, and I'll be happy with however long I get to keep them this time.