Seeking and not finding

If you've ever moved, you know that it's inevitable that something will get lost, broken, or both. The hope is that it'll be something you don't care too much about to the point that maybe you don't even notice. I moved 5 times between May 2005 and July 2010, basically once a year, and in that time, I didn't lose or break hardly anything. I was so proud! Of course, I did most of that packing and moving myself.

When we moved to Abilene in 2010, move #5, I was dealing with horrific morning sickness thanks to my adored Asher. It was bad enough just having morning sickness but coupled with the stress of moving halfway across the state in the space of about 4 weeks, I was practically down for the count. Thankfully, we have amazing parents and family and they all stepped up and came to our rescue and packed up our house for us (with us) in the space of a weekend. We hired someone else to do the heavy lifting and drive a truck of our belongings to our new home 3 hours away. Somewhere along the way some things went missing.

First, my favorite pair of tennis shoes. I don't wear shoes often around the house but I loved those tennis shoes. They were comfortable and I liked the way they looked. Bummer, but oh well. I haven't found a pair since I liked as much. Apparently I'm picky about my shoes.

Second, I had the complete Faerie Tale Theatre dvd set, and now I don't. No idea when it disappeared, since no other dvds went missing that we could tell (but we have a lot so who knows). That bummed me out more because hey, that was a gift and an awesome one at that. I haven't replaced it yet but I have definite plans to.

Third, we had painted the entire house in the first 6 months we lived in it, most of it done by yours truly. I had bought some pretty neat painting tools...and somehow those disappeared. I have a suspicion they got left behind and tossed. LAME.

Fourth, and most heartbreaking, was a bag of my dad's ties. My dad LOVED ties and had, seriously, a couple hundred. We all went through them and picked out our favorites when he died. I had probably 30 ties in a plastic grocery bag that I would have sworn was in my closet but when we got to Abilene and I unpacked, I couldn't find it. Periodically over the past three years, a new place to look has popped into my head and I've searched, but I've never found it. I can replace dvds, painting supplies and shoes, but not my dad's ties. I wound up with all the leftovers that no one wanted, so it's not like I don't have anything, but in my bag were special ties: the tie he wore to my wedding, a hand painted silk tie, a Norman Rockwell tie, a NYC subway map tie, a constellation tie. And who knows where they ended up. When I first realized they weren't where they should be, I sat down and cried. Then I opened every. single. box. and searched through them all, even 6 months pregnant. I climbed into the attic, I went through the garage in August heat, I opened suitcases and bags and cabinets and drawers. I went through Austin's stuff, just hoping I'd find it. And I never did.

I wish I could say that this past month I found it but I didn't. A new spot to look occurred to me last night and I'll check this afternoon but my hopes are pretty low. I sincerely doubt it's in that box but who knows. If it is, I'll cry again. Hell, I may cry when they aren't. I wanted those special ties for my sons and it breaks my heart that they don't have them. I feel like that one small way of introducing them to their grandfather is an area where I failed. I know I'm the best mom I can be for them, I'm not down on myself otherwise, I just hate that I lost them. Thinking back, I wish I'd carried them with me. I just didn't think something like that would get lost.

Fingers crossed for this afternoon.

The only picture of my favorite shoes. RIP