I am beginning my new year by having lost some items I have been holding onto for, perhaps, too long. Much as earlier this year I gave away the futon I had in my life since 1981, I now have other longstanding items no longer in my possession. These items were not consciously remanded to another. No.
The first items were my eyeglasses and their case. I had this pair of glasses since 1978 or so, perhaps a year earlier. They had large frames that matched my hair, being a tan tortoise-shell pattern. I had different lens prescriptions fitted in over the years, of course, adjusting for aging eyes as needed, but continuing to use those same frames. The latest set of lens were polycarbonate, shatterproof for use in the lab. The left lens had been damaged by continuous exposure to tears after my mother died in 2001.
I knew the glasses had run their course, and run it long and well, but I could not - would not - put them aside. I had already purchased new eyeglasses, with a new prescription, in December of 2007. The new glasses waited, unused, while I continued to use the old pair. Now, almost four years later, my well-worn glasses, and the soft case in which I kept them, are gone. Somewhere in Richmond, Virginia, a little over a week ago, the glasses' case didn't make it into my purse, and I didn't catch the loss until the next day. I thought about calling my friends in Richmond, to ask them to search their home, search their yard, search their car. I considered asking them to return to the restaurant and ask if my glasses were perhaps still there.
But I did not. I already have new glasses waiting at home and I have purchased a pair of reading glasses to use whilst away. I decided that this was as good a time as any for change - and I feel good about my decision. After all, I am beginning a new year of my life and change is warranted at such a time.
Then, two days ago, I accidentally erased all the text messages in the "inbox" of my phone. I had thought I was in the "sentbox" and I was trying to free up space to send pictures from my phone to elsewhere. I had quite a few pictures to send, as I use my phone as my camera, especially when on vacation and with sister-friends, as I am currently.
My phone had told me it was out of memory, so I meant to remove those images which were duplicated in my "sentbox". You know, the pictures I had already sent away for safekeeping. But the hour was late and I was not in the "sentbox" but my "inbox". I didn't even realize what I had done until I tried to send out more pictures... and again received the "out of memory" response. And when I rechecked my "sentbox", I realized my error, too late.
My "inbox" had preserved the last three text messages from Sam Johnson, dead these past two years. In one message, he wrote his support after meeting my bird on April 10, 2009. In another, he had forwarded a joke: "These guards won't let me see you in the zoo. I have peanuts." or some such silliness. That one was around April 14, 2009. The third, and final text was sent on April 17, 2009, and read: "@ comicbox. wanna meet for dinner b4 steeds?"
I had held on to these messages. He didn't seem so permanently gone as long as I still had words he had written specifically for me... right? Maybe, maybe not. Perhaps it was time for me to let go of that grief and my subconscious mind took over and caused that mistaken elimination of those messages. However it happened, the end result is the same: those text messages, as well as a few others I had saved from other friends and family, are gone, vanished into the ether from whence they came.
And I'm good. I have even been gracious in my acceptance of the loss of these items. And now that I have documented them, and their loss, in this ethereal space, they don't seem lost after all. They are simply put away for safekeeping for all to see as well as more deeply into my memory.
And that is better and a good way for me to begin a new year.
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