I lose things pretty often. Sometimes I can be all que sera, sera about it, but once in a while the missing item will haunt me. It took me years to recover from losing the braided metal bracelet Aunt Micky brought back from a trip to the Pueblos. And I still well up when I think of the Bare Naked Ladies tour t-shirt I left at a track meet the week after I went to the concert. (I loved that damn shirt.)
I made a rainbow mosaic flower pot when we lived in Pullman, but it got lost in our mad-scramble move in Seattle that time we were evicted. (Good story, but not for right now.)
At first I blew it off, because it had taken only a day or so to throw the pot together, no big deal. I could always make another. But then I caught myself thinking about it over and over during the next few years. It turns out, I really had liked that stupid flower pot - I didn't realize I was so attached until it was gone.
And now I've made the replacement,* and it is glorious. It may be too hot to plant anything in it for a while, but at least it's done. I can rest easy.
* When I say "I've made," I really mean "we," as my tiny munchkin hands aren't strong enough to break the tiles on my own. Thanks sweetie!