lost and found

      The other night I found my ring, my wedding band. It had been lost some eight months ago. I knew it was in the house. I felt sick about it and yet ... I dunno. I didn't really worry about it. It felt like it was just a matter of time and it would show up. What I did think about was what the band meant to me, what it symbolised, and if there was something symbolic to be found in losing it. Every once in awhile I would do a good hard search for it but I only looked when I felt like my heart could take the possibility of not finding it. I didn't look very often.

      Saturday evening I wanted my favourite pen. I thought it was beside the bed. The pen wasn't there but my wedding band was. It sat open and unhidden in a place I had looked many times, a place my hand had been over often in the last year. I can't remember the exact order of emotions that followed but I do know there was a race down the hall to Mark whilst much yelling and jumping and a long Happy Dance that ended it all.

      Mark played hockey that night with his rec league. I'm not a sports girl. I don't understand hockey well but there are moments as I watch the swirl and abrupt turn of skates on ice that my brain turns what I see into shapes and patterns. I can see that something more complex is happening, more than sticks hitting a puck. Never thought I'd say it, but ... I like those moments. Sports - who'da thunk? I usually bring a blanket and a thermos of chai to keep warm. I also bring a book or two (John Krakauer and George MacDonald this time) for in between periods and my iPod for during periods. Saturday it was Jeff Buckley, Vivaldi and Dvořák. I don't think Mark likes Jeff Buckley but then he doesn't know how cool he looks playing defense to Grace. They skated off ice after 40 minutes, he waved up at me in the stands. I was the only one there. Close to midnight, picked up Krakauer, another period yet.

Golden Galaxy 2 - Photo taken by FranH.
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