Whether attributed to age, memory or a bit of both, I frequently misplace items like my smartphone, wireless earphones, reading glasses and car keys, sometimes more than once a day. Although they eventually resurface — car keys being particularly elusive yet recoverable — the myriad of objects I have lost over the years is astounding. From the mundane, like shirt buttons and phone chargers, to personal items, such as earrings and scarves, the scope of my lost possessions is remarkable.

Recently, I absentmindedly left my jacket behind at the pickleball court, only realizing my mistake after leaving the building. While I diligently checked my phone, glasses and keys, the pleasant weather distracted me from noticing the absence of my jacket. Losing items, even temporarily, often leaves me feeling incompetent, frustrated and full of self-doubt. My husband suggests that keeping things in consistent places can prevent losses, but I remain skeptical. Attempting to follow his advice by designating specific pockets for my belongings only led to confusion about which jacket held my phone and glasses.

My husband's advice to always keep things in the same place, though logical, has not fully convinced me of its efficacy.

Reflecting on childhood, I recall losing my favorite red scarf to the whims of a windy day, only to find it miraculously weeks later. Decades on, that scarf serves as a poignant reminder of loss and recovery, as I still have the scarf. There is a saying that we lose things only to find them, but must this cycle be a prerequisite for rediscovery?

Finding coins, regardless of value, brings me fun and joy, akin to uncovering treasures by chance. Similarly, discovering notes in books, the missing half of a pair of socks, or cherished childhood memorabilia brings me satisfaction. Amid the pandemic, finding stones with uplifting messages on my hiking trails provided comfort during trying times.

I once walked away from a comfortable job, trading familiarity for the quest for fulfillment in a more meaningful occupation. I also experienced a significant impact of intentional loss of security and comfort for significant long-term gain. Contrary to my parents' belief in predestined love, I have championed a more proactive stance, though life's losses, including the passing of loved ones, have shaped my understanding of love and connection.

The concept of "Lost and Found" emerges as a metaphor for life's journey. I wonder whether "Lost and Found" are two sides of the same coin, each defining and enriching the other through the interconnectedness of loss and discovery. Perhaps each loss offers an opportunity for discovery, whether it be a lost item, a new path in life or unexpected love.

Shin Freedman (shinfreed@gmail.com) is an author, educator and writer.