Monday, June 30, 2008

Back from the void

I've mentioned this before, but sometime in the six weeks between when P died and when we moved, the video iPod he'd given me for our last Christmas together disappeared. I was terribly upset and looked everywhere for it, but it was nowhere to be found, and finally I gave up and started using P's own iPod, which I'd bought him for his birthday because he liked mine so much. Every once in a while, though, the lost one would still nag at me, and I'd try looking for it again -- I even hoped, after I sold my car to a friend last spring, that he'd call to tell me that he'd found it under one of the seats. But it never happened.

Then, earlier this month, I got my boxes of photos out of storage for the first time since we moved here because I was looking for a specific picture of P to put on his plaque at the cemetery. In the top of one of the boxes were a duffel bag and beach bag, which I'd apparently stuffed in there to help fill space. I thought about throwing them away, since G and I have accumulated a lot of other tote bags in the intervening two years, but I ended up changing my mind and sticking them on a shelf in my closet instead.

So today we were going to the beach for G's cousin's birthday party, and I thought "Aha! I'll use that old beach bag for our towels." As I was going to drop my phone down into one of the side pockets, I saw something in a black leather case, and I said "AAAAAAAAGH!" because guess what it was? My iPod!

I had to reboot it, but after an hour plugged into my laptop, it was just as good as new. Actually, it is almost new, because I had only owned it for about six months when it was lost -- there's hardly a scratch on it, and only 462 songs. I've been trying to think how it possibly could have got into that bag, and I think it must have been right after P's ashes were interred. I took G to SeaWorld that weekend (seemed like a good idea at the time, but it was a miserable trip, for me anyway) and on the way home she wanted to stop at the beach in San Clemente. We couldn't find parking there, but later that afternoon I took her to a different beach, and I must have brought that bag with me. It's the only time we went to the beach on our own that summer, and the bag has been buried in a box ever since. But almost exactly two years later, here it is again. Magic!

1 comment:

Humincat said...