I noticed the lightness of my left hand as I was coming up the hill to our home. My hands were on the steering wheel when this dismal realization encompassed me. I froze momentarily but held my emotions in check. Not now. I went into the house to give dad the oil change receipt with the words, “I lost my diamond.” Groan. No use looking, he said, it could be anywhere. But I had to. While dad started cleaning the floors and checking the bathroom rubbish, I retraced my steps to the gym, remembering that I had uncharacteristically torn off my gloves before the last floor exercise. I checked the back corner where I stood, unsuccessfully. Honda was a wash, too.
I’ve combed through my laundry, the dirty towel hamper where I toss my gym towels, my makeup drawers, my bed. I finger through the marinaded chicken I had prepared the night before, then stop. I refocus on the pickup time for Maddy and Elly. It is Wednesday after all. Life goes on still. Over the next few days I filter my thoughts with another realization: God knows exactly where it is. In His Wisdom it will be lost or found. In my wisdom, I am to sift through what is deemed truly precious. I admit that I searched the Internet this morning to see lessons learned from others who have experienced this kind of loss. It is from a Jewish woman’s words that I hold on to (she did cry) TheJewishWoman.org:
I realize that G‑d is in control of everything. This thought is not a misty realization, a mirage that evaporates with the heat of my tears. I feel in the depths of my soul that if G‑d wants me to have something, I will have it, and if not, I won't. I know that I can suddenly find my diamond in the box of tissues on my bedside table. If I don't, I'm not meant to have it any more. I focus on everything I do have.