Twenty-three years ago this summer--about this time, actually--Mom and Dad took Aaron and I to Disney World in Florida. It was a fantastic trip for our family.
Shortly after we returned, I had my 12th birthday. One of my gifts was a Mickey Mouse watch, purchased in Florida on the sly and kept hidden until my actual birthday. Over the years, I've worn that watch through three different watch bands and countless batteries.
Earlier this year, I pulled it out of a jewelry box after several years of going watch-less. It felt rude to pull out my cell phone to check the time during music lessons when a quick glance down at my watch was far less noticeable. So I took Mickey to a local jewelry store, got a new battery, and I've been wearing that watch a lot since then.
Yesterday, I went to the gym between working in my new classroom and going to Fusion to teach some lessons. I took the watch off and hooked it onto the lanyard I keep my car key on...and later, I promptly forgot about it and lost my 23-year-old watch somewhere in the gym. As of yesterday afternoon--when I drove back to see if it had been turned in, and to check the locker room myself--it had not been given to the front desk.
Of course, I'm hoping someone will find it and turn it in. Last week, I found a cell phone left on a stationary bike and promptly took it to the front desk, figuring someone's going to want that back. I'm hoping that little bit of good karma will come back to help me. It's not that my little watch is particularly valuable in a monetary sense--but it has huge sentimental value.
I couldn't help but feel sad when I realized my watch is missing. It is certainly replaceable (indeed, I have two other watches my parents have given me over the years), but I've always loved that little watch. I hope it is returned to me, somehow.