Finders Keepers

All of us lose or misplace items and much more as we age. We have experienced the panic and frustration as we tear throughout house trying to locating the missing item.  This story will ring true for many of us, but hopefully, not to this degree. 

Originally, this memory was written in two parts but is presented here in full.

Finders Keepers...

You know the rest…Losers weepers. I’m weeping. Not really weeping, but I am a sore loser. Let me tell you my sad tale.

This summer Jerry and I celebrated our 50^th Anniversary. We went on a cruise to Alaska with relatives and friends. It was an exciting trip, and one I’ll never forget. I will tell you about the cruise at another time. It’s what happened after the cruise that has made me a loser.

The day before the trip Jerry and I decided we had too much cash on hand to carry around on the ship. We had an extra $700 dollars, so I said, "I’ll take it down the basement and hide it.’’

This was fine with hubby so off I went. I was very busy getting ready to leave the next day, packing, watering plants, making phone calls, and going through the bills. I realize now that there were too many things on my mind. Everything went smoothly the next day, and off we went.

We arrived home seven glorious days later. We went to a cook out the next day then I came down with a summer cold and was sick for two or three days. It was a week later when I finally remembered the cash. Imagine my surprise when I went to the basement only to discover that I couldn’t find it. I looked in the places I thought it should be, but no luck. Therefore, I looked some more, no money. For the next several hours, I searched in earnest. My basement is my former workroom and office. I keep all my card making and art supplies there too. I looked in and under everything that is movable. In tiny boxes of screws and nails, in my ribbons, under the radio, in cans of buttons, in all my books, through my sewing supplies, in and under my sewing machines, through my files, and in photo boxes. I tore my desk apart many times; I looked behind the pictures on the wall and my calendar. I went upstairs and came back down thinking the hiding place would occur to me. My recollection of hiding the money was nil. Nothing.

The third afternoon, I finally asked Jerry what we did with the $700 dollars we had because I wanted to deposit in the bank.

"You hid it don’t you remember?"

"No I don’t remember."

I had to confess that I couldn’t find it. I have spent the last week trying to find that darn money. Day after day I looked. I tried putting it out of my mind. I tried sleeping on it, but no luck. I took all the envelopes out of the wastebasket and held them to the light. I went outside and went through the recycling, still no money. I don’t like to think of myself as a loser but what can I say? I’ve looked and looked and looked. I told my husband that maybe I will have to get hypnotized. He thinks I’m joking, but I am not.

At this point I have looked upstairs, downstairs, in the laundry room, and through both storerooms. I have looked in all our pockets in the closet and through all my purses.

I have not told my kids yet. I‘m afraid they will think I’m losing my memory, but I’m sure that’s not the case. I still remember my appointments and what people said to me yesterday and last week. Where is that money? I am leaving a folded one-dollar bill on my desk as a magnet.

To be continued…

Where’s the money?

It’s the third week in August and I am still looking for my hidden $700 dollars. By now, I have gradually told the kids. They have come up with some very devious places to hide things, but none of them has panned out. I haven’t let any of them actually look for it, but I have taken their suggestions. By now, I just look every two or three days, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I am not going to find that darn money, but it‘s like something you just can‘t let go.

One day, after another fruitless search, it occurred to me that maybe Jerry had found the money early on and was playing a trick on me. After all, he has been saying for years that he would pay me back sometime for the "laxative in the brownies" incident. He had been much calmer about the lost money than he usually was about things. He just kept saying, "It will turn up sooner or later. This wasn’t like him. So one day when my youngest daughter, Jenny was there, I confronted him with this idea. I knew he would fess up and have a good laugh with a witness. No, he didn’t have it. Well, that was the end of that theory. I was kind of disappointed to tell the truth. OK, the money is gone. Forget about it. That is it, I decided.

In the very beginning of September my son, Tom came for a visit with his girlfriend Joanna, and her daughter, Candice. We spent the weekend shopping for clothes and things for her college dorm. Tom spent the nights searching for the money. The last night they were there Joanna and her daughter asked if they could search. "Go right ahead", I replied I’ll just stay here and have a cup of coffee.

They had only been searching a short while before I decided to join them in the basement, curiosity you know.

 "Did you hide the money because you thought someone was going to break in while you were gone or did you just tuck it away until you got home?" Joanna asked me.

"I just tucked it away."

"Oh that’s a completely different story they said." 

They began to search superficially. It wasn’t five minutes before Candice reached in a basket and said, "could this be it?’ She held up a bank envelope. Oh my gosh! I opened it and there was my money. After the hooting and hollering, we told the guys. We jumped around and celebrated for a while. It was unbelievable. That darn money was in a basket that I had looked in more than once. It was pushed up under the rim. Jerry gave her a fifty-dollar reward.

People have asked me if I remembered putting it there, but I can honestly say I don’t remember hiding it at all.

My kids were a little disappointed that they didn’t get a chance at the reward.

Dede K.

2015

Thank you for sharing Dede!

Enjoy,

Emily