Losing My Identity

What a strange morning this has been. I awoke naturally at about 6am and got up after deciding I wasn't going back to sleep. Most of the morning was spent beginning Dad's "profile" with dates of who, what, when, where. Expecting it to be difficult, I steeled myself. I was surprised to discover that it was not too difficult, and that as I was re-reading the childhood stories he left us I was laughing much more than crying. Did I already say (or was this Kathy or Carrol's idea) what a good children's book or books his stories would make? There is a real treasure of adventures in them. I could see them making a small series of perhaps four or five books, with the right illustrator. Since the writers' group I expect to join (our first meeting is to be held the first Monday in December) has in the past focused on children's books, this would be a great project for me (besides the one I'm already working on). Thinking about this, I had such a sense of elation this morning.

Around 11am I decided to go out and get a bagel at Beetlebung and log on. When I was packing up my things, I realized suddenly that my little wristlet with all my information in it was missing. At first, I just thought I wasn't seeing it since the bigger bag I carry is black like the wristlet is. But after unpacking everything and shaking the bag, I started to panic. I looked everywhere. The last I could remember having it was at the drugstore yesterday when I picked up a prescription. I made only one other stop (at the Post Office), and then I went home for the day. I immediately called the drugstore -- nothing had been found. I decided at that point to go to the Police Station to see if anyone had turned it in -- also nothing. Tomorrow I'll check the Post Office to see if they have it, and if not, it's an ad in the MV Times hoping someone will return it with then incentive of a reward.

Why does something like this shake us so? They were only pieces of paper in the lost wristlet - driver's license, credit card, debit card, health insurance, Stop & Shop, bus pass, library card, some cash - but somehow by losing these simple pieces of paper, I felt I had lost part of my identity. My day had gone from giddy, to gloomy. After canceling my cards, I walked to the library hoping to get on with the day and shake the gloom. Regardless of the fact that the sun had been shining so warmly today that I had my cottage doors open all morning, things seemed more menacing. A chocolate lab barked at me as I passed and I jumped about 3 feet (there had never been a dog there before, had there?). The trees, now entirely naked of their leaves, looked cold despite the bright sun. Even my favorite yellow house on William Street averted its eyes as I passed, refusing to return the smile that we've exchanged on other days.

Sitting here I realize what has upset me the most is that I can't remember what I did with the wristlet and how I could have lost it. How could I have been so careless? There are no distractions here, why am I not in better control? Am I losing my memory? I have already lost my youth, am I losing my life? So now I'll end my philosophical wanderings on a positive note: I am NOT losing my life -- I am here, living my life...using it, enjoying it! And every day brings something new.