That which was lost is found! Saturday morning I began preparations for a feast. My youngest son was coming by to take my bathroom sink apart and hopefully find the diamond earring I had carelessly lost down the drain earlier in the week. The feast was to reward his effort.

I started the chicken early and put the Allen’s green beans on the back burner to simmer with a chunk of cured bacon. (That’s how we cook green beans in Kentucky—and they have to be Allen’s.) And I had to have mashed potatoes—all home-cooked meals call for mashed potatoes. But the best part of the meal was the fluffy, tender dumplings–Chicken and Dumplings, a real southern treat. It was a perfect meal for a cold Kentucky day. I also opened a jar of the pickled beets that my friend, Mandy, canned last summer.

The meal was excellent, and Stephen found my earring! He fished it out of the overflow channel with a guitar string. Amazing.

The Oscars will be presented later tonight. What if one of the actresses dropped her earring into the sink? It would probably be too big to go down the drain. For sure, none of those lovely ladies would be able to fit into her gown if she ate chicken and dumplings.

Years ago my husband gave me a lovely set of diamond earrings. I wore them almost daily. Yesterday, I decided to wear them with gold jackets. I noticed when I put them on that they didn’t seem very secure (the jackets are heavy).  I was standing at the bathroom sink blow-drying my hair when one of the sets: diamond stud, jacket, and back fell into the sink. I gasped as I saw them slide down the porcelain toward the drain. Quickly I captured the set with the curve of my palm and drew them towards the lip of the sink and up onto the counter.  With a sigh of relief I turned the hair-dryer off so that I could put my earrings back on. But, to my horror I’d saved the jacket and the back, but the diamond had disappeared. It was then I noticed the three little circular openings at the top of the sink. My precious diamond had fallen into the overflow channel.

Maybe I wouldn’t have been so upset if I’d carelessly lost it at another time, but eight years ago this week my darling husband died and now, through a moment’s inattention, I’d lost his gift to me—a sign of his love and care.

I chastised myself. Why hadn’t I stopped to secure the back? Why had I decided to wear the jackets when I was only going to the mall to take a walk? How could I be so careless? The small loss of the earring seemed a symbol of the larger loss of my husband. I didn’t cry. Instead I picked another set to wear and went on out to take my walk. But, oh, I was so disappointed.

I was in Macy’s when it hit me: If my husband were still here he would find that earring if he had to take the whole bathroom apart. He could fix anything—literally. And so I called my youngest son. Saturday, he’s coming over to take the sink apart. I’m betting he finds that diamond. I’ll let you know.

“My grief and pain are mine. I have earned them. They are part of me. Only in feeling them do I open myself to the lessons they can teach.” Anne Wilson Schaef. From the book, “Healing After Loss,” by Martha Whitmore Hickman.

I took myself out for a Valentine lunch today, and while I was driving on one of Lexington’s busiest roads I spied an older woman riding a wobbly bicycle. At least I think it was the bicycle that was wobbly—perhaps it was the lady.  A large slouch purse hung from one of the bike’s handles and a shopping bag dangled from her elbow. She wore a knit hat, hot- pink pants, and a fur coat. Well, my writer’s heart was captivated. What stories she must have to share. What a life she must have led. If I had not been afraid I’d get her killed in traffic, I would have stopped to talk with her. Of such characters and a little imagination rich stories are spun.

My children gave me flowers, strawberries dipped in chocolate, and Orange Leaf yogurt for Valentine’s. Maggie accompanied me on a walk in the park.  And the wobbly bicycle lady gave me food for thought. I hope your Valentine’s Day was equally blessed.