I admit I have a little OCD when it comes to losing things. It is not so much the thing itself but the thought of not knowing where it is that keeps bugging me. So I am posting my sorrow in hopes of moving on with my life.
I have many socks and I am not particularly attached to any of them except one pair. They are these nice and fabulously comfortable running socks made in South Africa that I purchased for training. I wear them on every long run and we have gotten close, running buddies if you will. After my 20 mile run last Saturday I took them off and placed them in the laundry basket trusting they would be OK, protected, safe. I did the laundry the next day. While watching my TIVO’ed What Not to Wear and folding everything I realized to my horror that one on my socks was missing. I quickly raced to the basement and searched everywhere for the little guy. No luck, I even dumped the garbage cans near our communal laundry area out in a desperate attempt to rescue my friend. I must now admit he is gone, I have moved past denial and am now in grief. I am sure he will triumphantly return someday but for now his brother sits sadly on my dresser looking up at me every morning as I put on other mediocre running socks. I even faintly hear him call out “please, remember me?” This whole story got me to think about my favorite Dr. Seuss book Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are. In the book there is a page that reads, “And you’re so lucky, so, so lucky you’re not a left sock, left behind by mistake in the Kaverns of Krock!”
If you are out there, dear sock, it was not a mistake and you are missed! And if I knew where the Kaverns of Krock were located I would bravely form a rescue party and head out.