A Memorable Loss

My mini-meltdown last night reaffirmed my life-long obsession about lost things. Last week my husband inadvertently gave away my 35-year-old copy of The Magus, which had been given to me by an old boyfriend and inscribed with a statement that stuck with me all these years. Ironically I had just written about this book and those words last week. At this point my book is either at the bottom of a young Israeli’s backpack or discarded in a large dumpster in NYC, the perfect place for a ratty old book once the last page has been read.

So who was this guy who gave me the book all those years ago? I didn’t love him, although we spent a lot of time together over a 2-month period in 1972, helping each other in very different ways. A catalyst for our split was probably his reluctance to make any level of commitment to our relationship. My last memory of Bill was my hurling 4-letter invectives at his back as he walked down the front walk, having just brought back the key to the group house in which I lived at the time. But he left me with a book that I re-read several times over the years and which in a strange way has had an impact on my life.

My concern for lost things goes back to my earliest memories. For years I wouldn’t play with my maroon and grey plastic tea set because it was missing a piece or two. I remember when I lost the beaded change purse that my father had given me in the 3rd grade. In the 7th grade it was a white jacket that I had spent $5 of my allowance money on. When my children were small and pieces of special toys turned up missing, I immediately ordered replacement parts, being practically on a first-name basis with Fisher-Price.

After I screamed "I can’t believe you gave my book away!" my husband immediately sent off an urgent e-mail to Yonathan, requesting that he mail back the book upon completion... if he still had it. Who knows? It might come back, but maybe not. If not, it will simply get chronicled with the other losses of my life, most of which really don’t matter anyway. But for some odd reason, I have a hard time giving in to loss of any kind.

Does anyone else share this strange attraction to things?