its not on the windowsill.
thinking back – i put my ring on the windowsill to shower a couple days ago. i can’t shower with it because it catches on my dreads and tears hair and its a pain to have to keep untangling it. usually the windowsill is a good spot, i grab it again in the towel dry stages. the other day i didn’t put it back on. i spotted it on the windowsill a couple days ago, and thought nothing of it. I’ll grab it later.
suddenly i want to find it. its been off my finger for too long, theres this weird space. i don’t match jim’s hand anymore.
its not on the windowsill.
maybe on the shelf,. maybe in the medicine cabinet. maybe i grabbed it and put it somewhere else without remembering. its just a little thing of silver with a tiny opal, its objectively meaningless. but im amazed at how much not being able to locate it sends me into a panic. I think of the worst scenario – i don’t find it, it got vacuumed up, a kitten put it under a book case, it fell in the garbage and went out on the truck yesterday morning. i could ask Rachel to make another. still, it wouldn’t be the same.
usually i am not so attached to these sorts of things. this one, apparently, is more significant than i realized. its something reaching in me deeper than i thought.
i check the windowsill again. then the shelves again. then the medicine cabinet, then places where i know it would not, has not ever, been. in the bedside table drawers. on the spice rack. wtf? its not going to ever be here. but its not on the windowsill and please i need to find it. in my head, please universe let me find it i promise i wont take it off again. this is the second time i have thought i have lost it. (the first time it turned out to be in cordelias pants)
for as much as i like to think I’m not attached to a thing like this.
blaze loves to brush her teeth. theres a collection of toothbrushes and the pinkie pie my little pony toothpaste on the windowsill, where she can reach it. she likes to brush her teeth with all toothbrushes, usually two at a time, double-fisting it. i go back to where i am pretty sure i left my ring last. if blaze was messing around with the windowsill, it would have been swept off and hit the floor. its not on the floor. its not under the radiator. its not behind the toilet, where the wax candle drippings of the previous tenants still are. white and pink and covered in dust.
the diaper garbage. when did i last take that out? please say it wasn’t in the last three days. i grab a plastic bag, dig through the diapers. some of them on the bottom, for those of you who have never owned babies before, are starting to liquefy. they stink beyond what a normal nose should be subjected to.
buried in there next to some old pee and poo and surrounded by sweating, slimy diapers is a silver ring so tarnished with ammonia that its black. lucky break this time. now i know better than to trust the windowsill with something surprisingly so meaningful and precious.
now i cant get the smell off my hands.