Lost Treasures

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We’ve all heard variations of this question:  If your house were on fire, what would you grab? Some people imagine the house literally burning and answer with a wise response, such as: “I’d get the kids, the husband (or wife), any other people, and possibly the pets.
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Others know that most of the time this is a figurative question, and think about their most prized possessions. Nowadays, most of us can’t decide on one or two items. We’re a society who has indulged ourselves with all sorts of treasures.  Maybe the question should be something like: “If you have an hour to pack your vehicle with things from your home that you will never return to, what would you take?”
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My list has varied over the years. One constant though, is photos & video, and journals.
Okay, that’s two… or three.
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Other things that have been on the list are:  expensive jewelry, inherited jewelry, certain books, and letters. (List subject to change as life goes on.)
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I don’t wear a lot of jewelry. The only jewelry that I’m sure to have on is my wedding band and engagement ring set. I like it; and also, after 17 years, it’s hard to take off. A little twisting and tugging is required to get it over my knuckle. I’ll also put on small earrings if it’s a “power my face and wear lipstick” day.
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When I get “dressed up,” I search the jewelry boxes for more. Sometimes, I choose a small, delicate ring that has a center diamond with a line of smaller diamonds on each side of it. (If you know what style it is, let me know.) It probably doesn’t get much attention, but that’s not why I wear it. I wear it because it’s pretty and it’s from “the family jewels.”  (Burglars, you can bypass my house. My family jewels would be a waste of your time before you go to prison.)
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Anyway, it belonged to my paternal aunt, who gave it to my mother, who gave it to me. And guess what I did? I lost it.
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Darling Husband and I were on our way to a Sunday luncheon at a historic home. On the way, we stopped at a strip shopping center to drop off a package. I had taken the ring off to put lotion on my hands. The ring was placed in my lap, on my skirt.  (I would figure this out later.) When DH pulled up to the curb, I got out of the car to run to the door of the business, got back in, and off we went.
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When we were on the interstate, I thought about the ring; however, I couldn’t remember if I’d left it at home or not. Sometimes, I put the last minute lotion on in the house, and that’s why it wasn’t clear to me. Rushing and stress was a factor too, of course. I hoped it was in the car.
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Sooo, we continued on. Surprisingly, I was able to enjoy the meal and the socializing, though the thought of the ring stayed with me.
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When we returned home, I looked on the shelf where the lotion is kept. No ring. I looked on the floor. No ring. I returned to the car to search for it again. No ring.
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Then, I got the sickening feeling. I’d lost my precious ring. Should I tell Mom?
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My whole mood was sour. I couldn’t blame anyone but myself. DH felt sorry for me and asked if I thought it was back on the sidewalk of the shopping center.
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“If it is,” I said, “It’s gone now. Someone has surely found it.”
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I began to think of other lost treasures. For three years, I couldn’t find the video of my oldest daughter’s first moments of life outside of her mother. I couldn’t find the wedding video. I couldn’t find the video of my honeymoon trip to Hawaii. Fortunately, two of these were found. Ironically, the Hawaii video was probably, unknowingly, used to tape the birthday of first daughter. I can’t help but laugh. Maybe I’m wrong and it will show up some day.
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I thought about the story of my friend B. who took off her onyx ring at a store to try on another ring. She forgot to put her heirloom back on and it has never been seen again. It, too, was a gift from her mother, who’d received it from her mother. I related.
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Still moping around, DH suggested I take the metal detector to the shopping center and search for it. I thought it would be a waste of time, but must admit that I also pictured myself as one of those people searching the sand at the beach. The look on my face must have revealed my thoughts. Sooo… guess who went? Darling Husband. And guess who came back with my ring? Darling Husband.

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He found it; safely tucked away in the crack of the sidewalk.

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What treasure have you lost? How often do you think about it?

A Mommy Van? Oh No!

I’m not driving a Mommy Van.


It’s 1999. I’m pregnant with my third daughter, comfortably driving to and fro with my 3 year old and 1 year old strapped in their 5-point harness car seats in the rear of my 1988 Volvo 240 GL. It’s a spacious enough family car, yet cozy enough for me to reach back to my girls without much effort. However, long distance traveling with Darling Husband, our luggage, and baby paraphernalia is more challenging. Packing the trunk requires a mathematical equation.

It occurs to us that another car seat and more baby stuff is going to put us on overload. It’s time to get a larger vehicle.


I’ve had my sophisticated Volvo since my single, career days. Now, I’m waddling around with an extra 20 pounds on me (and growing), and I still feel more like a Volvo than a minivan. That’s for those child-centered, soccer moms. I just can’t go there.

Sooo, instead, I say to Darling Husband, “I’d like one of those SUVs. I’ve been looking at them for awhile and the Ford Expedition is what I want. It’s big and powerful… nothing wimpy about it.” A few trips to the dealer to test drive it, and the day before my Y2K baby is born, it’s parked in my garage.

It’s 2008; summertime. I’m spending the day at a water park with a girlfriend, my daughters and her daughter; 6 of us. The Expedition is getting some TLC at the dealership, but because we planned in advance, our loaner is a van.

As I step out of my garage to see it on the driveway where Darling Husband parked it, I feel a little geeky. It’s not the latest model and a bit unattractive… but, who cares; it’s transportation.

I unlock the doors, put in our cooler and sacks, tell the kids to get in, step inside, and suddenly a transformation occurs. I realize how comfortable I am getting in. I don't have to hold on to a ceiling handle to pull myself into it like I do to get in the Expedition.

Hmm.

I feel lower, too, but not as low as being in a car.

Hmmm.

There’s a space between the two middle row seats (later I learn that these are Captain’s Chairs). The cooler fits there nicely. The kids can reach in when they want something.

Hmmmm.

We pick up T. and her daughter. Everyone has leg room.

Hmmmmm.

This is not bad! It’s actually kind of nice. But I like my Expedition. It’s serving us well AND, it’s paid for.

It’s May, 2011. I knew the day would come when we’d have to say goodbye to the Expedition, although I thought it would be much later, like when it was about 18 years old instead of 11. Anyway, Girl #3 and I are walking toward it at the horse farm where we take lessons, when gusty winds uproot a top-heavy tree that comes crashing down upon it. We are 40 feet away, as we watch in horror and amazement.

My first thought is, “My car just got totaled.” My daughter’s hysterical reaction is, “MOMMY, HOW ARE WE GOING TO GET HOME!?!”

It’s quite an ordeal for us and the five other people there. An electric line is down near the pig pen. The houses across the street have lost power. My cell phone is in the car (truck), and so are my reading glasses. I’m borrowing a phone, but need help dialing because I can’t see the numbers. Another parent is trying to get the electric company or the fire station… and so on.

This will be a memorable day.

The dust has settled. It has taken me almost 9 months to decide on my new vehicle, and yes, it’s a mommy van. But… times have changed. It has more of a Crossover look, with elements of a hearse thrown in. I like it.

Count your blessings.

Given a choice of vehicle, what would you choose?

The first image is from www.clipartoday.com It looks more like an SUV, but it was too funny to pass.