Losing My Sunglasses and My Mind

Yesterday I walked over to the public library to return my stack of books. That's where I lost my sunglasses. I felt them slip off my head while I was in the shade of the tree with Lily, talking to two young kids. I thought I recognized one of the boys, the one who was clearly autistic. Their mom was there, too, and we were all ducking the sun. The boy who looked familiar told me he had met a dog that looked exactly like my dog and who was named Lily and who also had a purple collar. "This IS Lily!" I said. Then the boy remembered that I had been in his class as a guest at Harris School, in the art room. "Yes, I met you," I said, now remembering. "I knew you looked familiar." The boy went on; "You brought Lily and we drew pictures." His eyes were bright blue and he wanted to talk. "I could climb this tree," he said. "It's a perfect tree for climbing," I replied. "Alright, time to go Nate," the mom said. "See you around!" I called after him.

I went to my garden plot next door to water my basil and cucumber plants and hose my hair to cool off when I realized my sunglasses were gone. I searched my purple shoulder bag twice, sure that I had put them in there when they had fallen off in front of the library. I panicked. I returned to the shade tree but they were not there. I asked at the library's front desk, but no luck. The sunglasses must have been quickly adopted. Oh well. They were destined for a new life on another face! This was clearly a pattern - I had gotten them as a gift from a friend last summer, and she had found them in her office desk. Nonetheless I grieved the loss.

I normally keep things forever. I have held on to my winter sunglasses for 26 years. I was a little crazed about having lost my relatively new summer shades. When I got home I dug around searching for a pair of Ray-Bans I had found on Lilac Sunday at the Arnold Arboretum twenty years ago. I had found them, broken, under a lilac bush. Now they were held together by a wire. I've kept them as back-up in my kitchen drawer through three moves.

Later in the day, when I was wheeling in the trash and recycle barrels from the curb, I saw my neighbor on his third floor porch. Jeremy makes fingerboards - skateboards for your fingers. They look like skateboards for mice. He showed me how to do tricks with them using his fingers. I noticed that the wheels were attached with tiny screws, like the kind that hold glasses together. I asked him if he had a couple of extra tiny screws I could use to fix my sunglasses. He did, and he fixed them on the spot! So all is restored.