Gone but Not Forgotten

I knew I’d packed it.  Granted, it wasn’t there now, but I damn well knew I packed it and no amount of second guessing myself was going to change the fact that I knew I packed it! I knew, but still, to be sure, searched the rest of the luggage I’d tossed together for the rest of my brood. Three children’s backpacks and one adult male’s suitcase, (typically, said adult male had managed to put off his packing until the last minute whereupon, also typically, I did it for him)…all searched, all proven not to be hiding my elusive, painstakingly typed work-in-progress.

My nearly finished short-story was nowhere

to be found.  I’d worked hard on it. We needed

the money the true confession magazines paid and I was doing my best to provide it short of stumbling out into the “How may I help you?” minimum wage world. ..

But, all was not lost. We were on vacation where every breath was a whiff of freeedom from our stifling day-to-day routine. Salty sea spray, sizzling hot dogs beckoning from the grill, sunshine warming our souls, bubbling surf tickling our toes…Happy kids, happy hubby, mom, floating on her own and her family’s happy. 

And, so, I released my quest for the missing manuscript. Let go of the months of creativity birthed throughout the deep, dark hours of night whilst the family slept. Did I mention that there were no copies? Indeed, these were the days of typewriters, there were no computers or even Word Processors. The only way to cope with the frustration of this loss was to set it aside with the hope that some fine day it would turn up, all the while, inwardly knowing it would not. It was gone.

The vacation won a 3 L rating in our hearts and memories (Love, Laughter, Loads of Fun!) Would it have been so had my“project,” as the kids called my literary endeavors, accompanied us? We’ll never know. I suspect not - even had I worked only at night when the family was asleep, the musing over it element 

would have tagged along, surely butting its way into whatever fun was being had. 

 Upon our return home, momentum for the story sagged along with my interest in writing for the Romance Magazines. I set my sails upon a different pathway and, eventually, succeeded in publication in more mainstream venues leaving only one persistent unanswered question from my confession days…Whatthehell happened to my manuscript?

The answer did, finally, become clear - some 50 years later. Only recently, actually, did I come to realize what had actually

transpired. It hit me just a few days ago, like a lightning bolt out of the blue: My husband had tossed it before our departure for our days of fun and frolic. He hadn’t wanted it to interfere, or he was jealous of it or…who knows. But, once the thought struck, I have never for an instant doubted its veracity.  

Husband is long deceased and I suspect that it is he who supplied me with the answer…his true confession! 

Indubitably, there was a lesson about coping with loss for me in that vacation triumph over loss - no great loss in the ultimate scheme of life, I guess, but, nonetheless, it was pretty damn big to me!

It is worth noting, however, that I managed through not too small an effort, to avoid upsetting the  family’s collective joie de vivre. 

Nutshell:  We live, we love, we learn, we die, we confess. No more, no less. We may as well take our losses as they come, for come, they will. Life - pack it in!

By Fran Pearce

From: United States

Instagram: franpearce3

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/franpholisticharmoniesca