Lost and Maybe One Day Found
I just returned from a great mini-vacation with my best friend, her two kids, and my two kids. We went to Saint Louis- if you ever get there check out the Loop area of town- fun, funky, with great restaurants like Blueberry Hill and Fitz's. And, oh, yeah, there's a brewery tour of some type, too.
Driving along Delmar Street (Avenue, whatever) we passed a Sinclair gas station. I rarely see them anyone as they are not in the Chicago area. Looking at their logo, I always sigh and think back to my inflatable Dino that my dad brought home (Rhode Island) for me when I was about 3. I loved my Dino and that was his undoing- obvious note- don't sleep with a large inflatable, they pop. For some silly reason, I miss that dinosaur and have even taken to checking ebay to see if someone has one for sale. Sigh, maybe one day.
Like everyone else I have lost many things in my life- I would give anything for one more day with my dad who passed away too young and too suddenly. There are even more valuable objects that I have lost, such as an antique heart locket that was given to me by my great aunt and later stolen in college. For some reason, though, tracking down the missing jewelry or books or that slip I lost in college (a story for another time) holds little emotion. Maybe its because my dad gave me Dino and I can't get him back, maybe it's because it was a childhood toy and I can't get that back, either.
So, today's question, what lost item do you wish you could find again and why?
Taffy
The photo is not me- its from the Sinclair website. Oh, and I have found some newer Dinos on ebay but they are much lighter in color- the one in the photo is the right one.
posted by Kathy @ 8:29 AM
1 Comments:
At 12:56 PM,
Anonymous said…
So your dino is your "Rosebud". Off the top of my head, one thing I lost was an old plastic jewelry box that I stupidly buried in my neighbor's wooded back yard like a treasure one summer when I was about 6 or 7. The back yard descended down a hill down to a local metropolitan park. I wanted to prove to myself that I could always find it again. I waited about a week, and, as the Gods would have it, there was a lightning storm in those woods which split the "trail" to my burial spot essentially in half. After that, the plastic jewelry box was lost forever! Last summer on a visit to my parents' house, I went looking for my holy plastic grail. As the parents of those neighbors had just sold their house
for their retirement, my husband and then 3 year old daughter walked that trail assisting me on my search. The gods have apparently won, as it is still missing, unless we ask the metropolitan park system to perform an excavation for me. So, alas, I'm afraid the liklihood of finding Jimmy Hoffa is greater than finding that jewelry box.
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