Special Agent M.O.M (Marvelous, Outstanding and Meticulous Human), specializes in the art of finding absolutely anything and I mean anything.
Anytime I lose something, I ALWAYS go to my mother because the only things she can’t find are things she doesn’t want to find. It doesn’t matter how many times you look in that one spot, she’ll look in it again and find just what you were looking for all along. It was and is both the most amazing and maddening trait she possesses.
When I lost my Driver’s License, I covered it up as much as I could because I didn’t want anyone to know. I broke my rule. I didn’t go to Special Agent M.O.M this time. I was embarrassed.
Looking back, I’m a little shocked that I felt that way because I lose things all the time and it’s never been a source of shame. In fact, my habit of losing things is the butt of many of my best jokes. After I thought for I while I realized that I NEVER lose any form of my identification, at least not for very long. As a traveler, I always knew how incredibly important it was to have multiple forms of ID at all times. The fact that the one thing I had always been able to find rather quickly and rarely ever lost had been lost for quite some time was unnerving to me. I didn’t want anyone to know, maybe it would show up somewhere if I just stopped looking.
I applied for a temporary license and did just that, I stopped looking.
Unfortunately, it finally caught up to me. My temporary license was a sheet of paper that stated in big bold letters: THIS DOCUMENT MAY NOT BE USED FOR IDENTIFICATION PURPOSES. Why? Because it didn’t have a my angry-looking face on it like my actual license did. No matter how many forms of identity I had from a Social Security card to a Student ID, if it didn’t have my picture and was not given to me by a government official, it does not prove that I am who I say I am.
I discovered as much when I went in to take the test that would allow me to be an Exceptional Student Education (ESE or Special Education) teacher when I returned to the states. It was the planner in me that choose to sign up and study for it. I wanted everything to be secure when I returned to the U.S of A. All was well when I entered the testing center. I had dressed comfortably, cleared my head, paid for plenty of extra time in my parking spot. I was perfectly prepared.
All that perfect planning was only a house of cards. The one card that was its foundation was lost and the whole house came crashing down all at once. Nothing but my Driver’s License or passport would allow me to take this test and my passport was still at the Embassy of Ghana in Washington D.C. They refused to give me a refund or let me reschedule. I started to feel boiling hot though the A/C was blasting. Everything around me suddenly had a crimson tint.
Ignore the problem and it’ll go away, right? Out of sight out of mind, sweep it under the rug, right?
I contacted The Finder, a.k.a. my Mother, IMMEDIATELY.
Once I had finished my tirade, it only took a matter of minutes for her to realize and point out that I wouldn’t be able to get on a plane to launch in Atlanta without that lovely piece of plastic that says I am who I say I am or the book of stamps that says I am who I say I am. That book of stamps was being sent to Georgia and would be there for me at launch. IF I EVEN MADE IT TO LAUNCH!
I prayed an angry prayer as I stomped along the pedestrian pathway, blasting Thousand Foot Krutch and We as Human through in-ear microphones. The song “Take it Out on Me” started playing and that’s exactly what I was doing.
After a while, a wave of calm washed over me and I realized it was time for me to buckle down and figure this out. There’s always a solution. There’s no way I worked so hard to go the World Race just for something like this to happen. The rest of my afternoon was spent on the phone with a TSA officer and an American Airlines representative who gave me a sliver of hope but no guarantees. I was desperately in need of a guarantee. I needed some kind of security.
Once I had finally decided to go home, watch a movie, make like Elsa and let it go, The Finder gave me a ring. She was sure that this powerful piece of plastic was still in my possession. She had the deepest conviction that it was somewhere in my messy Sebring. In fact, she could almost swear I would find it near the driver’s seat somewhere. Regardless, she was praying for a miracle because she knew they could happen. I had no idea she believed so strongly in miracles but finally turning a profit on the Home Care business she started years ago had made her the firmest of believers I supposed.
Honestly, I had my doubts. I believed in miracles, I had seen them happen but I had checked underneath and all around my driver’s seat at least 20 times. There was no way it was there. I decided I would check the next day after I finished packing up a few things.
Doubtfully, I took a cursory glance all around that black leather chair. Much to my bewilderment, I saw something in between the seat and the console. It was white. I touched it. It felt a little thin to be a license. I picked it up, turned it over and… LO AND BEHOLD! There was my mugshot face staring right back at me. I was relieved, shocked and angry all at once. I was so glad I had found it but unbelieving that it was actually the real deal. I was the slightest bit irritated because…. WHERE ON EARTH WAS THAT DARN THING THE LAST 20 TIMES I LOOKED THERE?
I eventually answered my own question, it was hiding. It was hiding because I was hiding. I wouldn’t acknowledge the fact that it was lost so it couldn’t be found. Plain and simple.
Sometimes we all lose that one thing that we never lose, no matter how careful we are. Maybe it’s your license, your peaceful demeanor or your Grandmother’s necklace. We all have that one thing that we never lose because it is a part of us, our identity. In this case, quite literally. When we do lose it, we don’t want anyone to know because if we did, we’d have to be vulnerable. We’d have to let someone else see a part of us that we don’t want anyone to know is there. What we don’t realize is that if we ignore it, it could cost us something major. Our house of cards isn’t sturdy enough to be missing any parts. It is in losing things we never lose that we discover who truly accepts us for who we are because you can’t always rebuild your house of cards singlehandedly.
