All of us have lost, tossed, sold, or given away stuff over the years that we've later wished we hadn't. When I dropped out of college and moved away, I left a lot of stuff behind that I said the family could do with as they wished. Of course, later I wanted some of it, but my family had taken me at my word and disposed of it. Philistines.

Every so often I wish I still had something that's gone. For instance, when our kids came along, I looked for my control line plane, a Wen-Mac Airacobra (silver) that fired spring-loaded missiles, and would eject the pilot (with parachute). It was of course gone. Ditto the radioactive dime (in a case) that Dad brought back from Oak Ridge National Labs the summer he worked there. My coin collection. A few others. And, eventually, all the vacuum tubes I tossed, because who would ever want those?

I did find my old Daisy Model 12 BB rifle. Sharon, Esther, and Josiah all learned to shoot with that first. It hangs on the wall in our living room, in dire need of a cocking spring.

But the thing I miss most is a poem I wrote in, I believe, fourth grade. It was about pygmies, mighty hunters with mud squishing between their toes. (I went barefoot as much as I could, but living in the desert, I didn't get to play in the mud much so it fascinated me). "Pygmies" consisted of four quatrains, and was in probably the neatest printing I ever did. I had it until a few years ago; I have no idea where it got off to (hopefully the Library of Congress). It was the first piece of writing of which I was abidingly proud, which everyone from my teacher to friends to my parents lauded. Would I be into writing today without that poem? I don't know, but I somewhat doubt it. At least I carry the memory.

What about you? What have you lost (traded, trashed, or whatever) that you wish you could have back?

Copyright 2019 Miles O'Neal, Round Rock, TX. All rights reserved.