I lost everything as a child. And no, I dont mean that in a “Tragedy hit and all my worldly possessions were lost in the blink of an eye – woe is me” kind of way. I mean it in a “I dont remember where I put it” or a “I put it somewhere so obscure there is no hope of me recoverring it” kind of way.
It started in 1982 during the World’s Fair in Knoxville, TN. I remember little about the World’s Fair, being that I was only 8, but I do remember one thing. My father (or maybe my mom?) bought me a souvenir. That was rare for my family. My brother and I usually got 1 dollar to blow at the Students Museum gift shop when we went as children, but other than that, my Dad wasnt a “my child needs over-priced objects that will break in 5 minutes to remember this day by” kind of dad. So – point being – that souvenir was a prized commodity.
Well, I remember going to one of the many exhibits and leaving said souvenir behind. I was devastated when I realized I had lost it, we went back, and it was gone.
The funny thing is this: I can recall quite easily the sadness I felt at having lost that souvenir. I remember vividly, the jealousy over my brother still having his weeks and weeks later. I remember the regret I constantly felt like it was yesterday.
But I have no idea what the hell it was.
Maybe a sunvisor, or a snowglobe. I cant remember for sure, but I THINK it was one of those.
Obviously – this supports the concept that having a souvenir was such a gift in itself, that it was more important to me than the actual object. Hm.
Anyway – that was the start of what would be a life of absent-mindedness and scatter brained mistakes that would result in what is now a long list of items and cash lost.
But none of it has been missed as much as the precious souvenir from 1982.
RIP snowglobe/sunvisor – you were loved, even if but for a moment.