Monday, January 28, 2013
I think we've all lost important stuff we wished we had back. Mine would be a bag of silver dollars that I collected as a kid. From time to time, my grandfather would flip me one. I carried them in a tan, suede pouch that my aunt had sent to me when she was teaching at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. It had a Southwest Indian motif on it, and I was so happy when I finally found a beneficial use for it, holding those special coins. There were about eight of them, and they just made a special, melodious clinking tone when I let them fall from one hand to the other. When we moved in high school, for some reason, I found an old loose floorboard in a third floor bathroom crawlspace and secured the coins there. I'd bring them out from time to time to check them out, but when we moved, I do believe I left them behind, sequestered away. Maybe in 200 years or so some kid will find them, and they'll be worth a lot of 'coin'. Until then, I'll just keep kicking myself.
Now, there is another possibility that involves a now deceased college best friend, who came to visit just after graduation. That possibility I don't even want to conjure up.
For me, the mystery of these missing coins lingers.