Misplaced

Your hand just missed me.

I thought you'd keep coming as you thumbed your way across the titles on your bookshelves. From the edge of the pages I could see you pausing at your favorite story (The Stand, of course it would be The Stand), and then grabbing up the Thesaurus and Dictionary to send to the thrift store.

I just knew you'd grab your yearbook and toss it in the box. But no; you filled the packing box with Jean Auel and Harry Potter, and those are some monster books. There wasn't room to toss me in there, too. So, spared again- I live another day here on the top shelf.

~

It was another close call when you decided you were downsizing your clothes. I was wrapped around the padding on the Members Only jacket's hanger and I saw so many old favorites disappear into the donation bags. There were too many suits to count (ok. I counted: 16), those horrible 80's crazy zigzag sweaters, and those round collared shirts that did nothing at all for your figure.

Gone, all gone. Except the Members Only jacket. I remembered when Dave gave you his jacket. That day when you cut class together; do you remember that? You walked through the park and down a path close to the creek and kissed. Boy, did you kiss! Those first kisses, do you remember them? I'll always treasure them and I guess there was something that helped you skip over the jacket and leave it a little longer at the back of the closet.

~

What has gotten into you? Now it's the papers that you're after? Some of those drawers haven't been disturbed for years- not since you emptied out the boxes from your Mom's home and shut the drawer.

Look! No- wait; you're shuffling too fast! I wish you'd slow down so I can see better. There's your Gramma, in the kitchen as usual. She could make an entire dinner out of $5, couldn't she? And there's Bailey! That dog would sleep at the bottom of the bed and hog all the blankets. He farted, too. But I loved him like I've never loved a dog since. You don't forget your first dog.

You aren't going to throw away the birthday card from your father, are you? It's the last thing he ever sent to you and... whew. Okay, it's back in the drawer. I wasn't sure. It's hard to see through watery eyes. I'm glad that made the cut again.

What were you looking for in there, anyway? That old report card? That prom photo? It would help if you said it out loud instead of keeping it in.

~

It feels like just yesterday that we faced each other this way every morning. Eyes locked while you brushed your teeth. Me trying to reassure you that those lines were just laugh lines and nothing to fear, those white strands were proof that you'd been places and seen things.

But this lingering... this feels different from your daily inspections, and when you peer forward so intently I... think you can actually see me. Can hear me. Is it true? Are you looking for me again, Barbara?

I think, no. Just for a moment I thought you'd talk to me again like you did when we were younger. That I would once again know the thrill of connection. Of being seen.

I'm patient, though. I am sure that my time will come around again. It always does. I've been here before with others, and when the end comes, they all see me.

They all remember their misplaced imaginary friend, and we lock hands once more as I lead them home.