My wife and I are headed to Chicago to visit our son, daughter-in-law, and our youngest granddaughter. The last time we were there, my daughter and her two girls came with us.
When I told my nine-year-old granddaughter that we were going to Chicago, she told me to stop by the Lost and Found at the hotel because she had accidentally left “Buzz-Buzz,” her bee stuffie toy. I assured her it would be my first act upon arrival.
I hadn’t thought about a Lost and Found in a long time. In my mind, it was something that belonged to public school, and it’s been quite a while since I’ve been there. My thoughts, as they often do, drifted toward life and this current stage of it. I wonder if there was a Lost and Found for life, what might I find there?
Would I find lost dreams, lost innocence, lost relationships? Would I find lost hope? Would I find the discarded pieces of passion projects? Would I find the stamina I once had to stay on top of my game for countless hours? Maybe I’d find a forgotten idea that’s perfect for this moment.
I’d like to think that, as I scan the rows of my personal Lost and Found, I’d discover pieces of myself I’ve outgrown in favor of a better version of who I am today.
What might you find as you visit your Lost and Found?
