Good Grief 277

Lost and found

I got lost today. I don't quite know how but I did. It was strange because I wasn't far from paths and habitation but I knew that I could be stumbling around in circles in head high bracken until dark and then I'd be in a pickle and no-one would know until I didn't turn up for work. I could feel panic mounting and sat down for a bit to take stock and then decided to keep heading west knowing that I would have to hit a path that ran north-south. 

It was fine in the end but the terrain was hard going and I was shattered. It seems to have been a week of lost and found. This morning I was relieved to find the Certificate of Cremation which I had wanted to find as well as the notebook I found yesterday. And then I found a map I thought I'd lost. I had talked to my stepdaughter on the phone and she was disappointed not to have been able to do her half marathon. As we talked about her father and how she's doing generally I could feel myself holding back a deep welling sadness and tears. As she said, five years feels so long and so short. When I look through my diary I am mightily relieved I'm not in that horrendous place still but I'm not entirely sure what place this is that I am in now, five years on.

I'm not sure why finding these misplaced things is so important. None of them have really been lost as such ... they are just in the general chaos somewhere. But for some reason locating them, placing them, seems to help with just a small sense of solidity. Just like landmarks on a map I guess.