the god of lost things.

I discovered it the next morning, when I opened my car door and found the tapes and various odd things in my glove box strewn everywhere. I had left a few boxes in my car in the process of unpacking; mostly books and blankets, nothing of value. And at first I thought they had simply opened the door, which wasn't locked. Actually, they had broken one of the small windows by the backseat.

It looked like nothing had been taken. Even my ipod car adapter was still there. I picked out all the pieces of glass, finally moved the last of the boxes inside, and decided to chalk it up to curiosity and someone's desire for a quick profit, which looked like it had been thwarted.

But they did take something. In the process of unpacking, I realized what was missing. My jewelry box. A wooden box, made by my grandfather, made of two different kinds of wood. Made from trees that grew in the place where I grew up. A box that contained nothing really valuable, but many things of infinite worth to me. A cheap glass ring from Venice, given by a friend. Another from Spain. My favorite abalone earrings, bought at Folk Life for a few dollars. My mother's silver bracelet with white and purple stones. An Indian necklace with small turquoise stones and squash-shaped beads that represented fertility. Chandelier earrings from my sister. And the necklace Stuart gave me for our one-year anniversary. That is the first thing I thought of, the thing that is truly irreplaceable. It was beautiful-the kind of necklace that only goes with a great dress and is only worth wearing when you are with someone you love. I think perhaps the only time I wore it was on a date with him. It is gone. All of it is gone. Every pretty thing I owned.

Later, as I look through a ziplock bag of odd things, I find the pair of beaded earrings I bought in Yosemite at the end of the summer. The first pretty thing I bought for myself after five months of brown pants and khaki work shirts, hiking boots torn to hell and t-shirts stained forever. I put them on and feel somewhat better.

Yes, I know that things are only things. But a gift is a symbol of someone's love. And jewelry holds a special power for a woman. It says that you are pretty, and someone wants to reflect that beauty in their gift to you. I have lost all these symbols, all these tokens. It is a good enough reason to be sad.