Looking For—My Senior Malady

What gets lost most

 Everything in its place—and it still gets lost. Somebody, most often me, is always misplacing something. It's like a senior moment but with things, and it's getting worse. If it’s not my glasses, it’s the car keys, or my credit card, or the door key. Or any combination, or something else. What’s lost usually turns up, but I may be using up my luck.

Last Monday, it was my car keys. My artist friend in Alabama needed some paints, so I packed a boxful of acrylics and set out to ship them to her. But where were my car keys? Nowhere. Finally I located another set of keys and sent the package on its way.

A credit card I seldom used wasn’t in its place in my purse, but I wasn’t concerned. I checked and no charges had been posted to it so I figured it would turn up within a couple of days.

The credit card, then, was missing when I drove my husband to a doctor’s appointment Thursday. He rode in the passenger seat and I noticed his wallet in his hand. On the way home, we stopped at the pharmacy to fill prescriptions and buy a birthday card. I paid with my new Amex card.

Once home, I decided to cancel the old credit card. Needing the phone number, I reached for my new Amex card, only it wasn’t in its place. Nor any place in the house. That left the car. I grabbed a flashlight to help me see under the seats and what did I find under my husband’s seat but his wallet and, under it, the credit card.

I marched back inside and plopped the wallet and card down on the kitchen counter.  “Aha, look what I found,” I said.

Aha ha. The wallet I found was the one my husband was certain was stolen last May—and the credit card was the one I intended to cancel.

So now where was the new Amex card? I had just used it at the pharmacy. Off I went to retrace my steps.

Not here said the pharmacist. And the cashier, who helped me walk up and down aisles, looking at the floor. Not in the birthday cards I considered. It had to be at the pharmacy, just had to. I began to look through all the cards on the rack—and there it was, where it had fallen, inside a Charlie Brown card.

Success! What luck!

Driving home again from the pharmacy, my phone rang. It was my artist friend in Alabama. “Did you know you mailed me your car keys with the paints? I’ve already sent them back to you.”

Luck, stay with me!