Not long ago, Hubby and I attended a fundraiser. The event gave us a great excuse to dress up and spend time with lots of friends. We enjoyed browsing through all the silent auction items as this friend and that pulled us here and there to show us their favorite pieces and ask for input on how high they should bid. We enjoyed the appetizers, dinner and desserts. We cheered on the high-stakes bidders during the live auction.
But the very best part of the entire evening happened after the fundraising ended. As the crowd waned, the band warmed up. Before long, the makeshift parking lot dance floor was packed with people laughing, spinning, shaking, dipping, twisting, turning, and otherwise dancing the night away.
After hours of dancing and singing to our favorite 80s tunes as interpreted by a very talented live band, we headed home. As I was settling in, I reached up with my right hand and felt an empty earlobe. Instinctively, I grabbed my left earring. It was still hanging from my left ear. I slipped it off and then checked my naked right ear again, as if the long, dangling piece of costume jewelry would suddenly be there; as if I could have missed it the first time.
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| Must have lost the mate to this one on the spin & dip. |
The earrings were favorites in my collection. Hubby brought them home one night with Chinese take-out—a romantic surprise. My first reaction was disappointment, followed by a pang of sadness sprinkled with guilt.
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| My Golf Swing: Not strong enough to drive 100 yards, but hard enough to lose an earring. |
From disappointment to sadness to guilt to frustration, I finally settled on pride. Ultimately, I lost my earrings as a result of enjoying life and staying active. When it comes down to it, had I not been enthusiastically playing golf or dancing with friends at community fundraisers, I would still have my earrings. Since I wouldn’t trade participation in those events for anything, I’m actually proud to have traded an earring here and there for the experiences.
Thinking back, I’m actually also glad I lost sentimental earrings as opposed to plain meaningless ones. By losing the ones I loved, I’ve imprinted the events during which I lost them—and had amazingly great times—that much deeper into my memory. I can never remember where my keys were placed or what I was supposed to pick up at the grocery store, but I will never forget the great times I’ve shared with my friends and our community.
Micki Bare, mother of three, wife, daughter & writer is the author of Thurston T. Turtle children's books.
Email: mickibare (at) gmail.com
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