The Doctor of Divinity and the Missing Painted Pots

When I travel for a month or more, I rent my house out. I put my valuables in a locked space and move my other personal items into my kids’ closets. The first few days after I come home, I have to put my house back together, but it’s worth the hassle.

When I got back from Norway on July 24, I pulled all the stuff out of its assorted hidey-holes, and put it all away, relieved to be wearing all cotton again and to use my electric toothbrush. But weirdly, even when I had emptied all the boxes, there were a few random things I could not find.

The first thing I noticed was the hand-painted Armenian pottery I bought in Israel in 1994, and use to store my make-up brushes and Q-tips. Also missing was my favorite navy “Adventure Rabbi” sweatshirt, my favorite quilted vest, and my flannel bathrobe. (I noticed these quickly as I reached for soft clothes to wear since I no longer needed the synthetic or wool clothing needed on a wet and cold bike trip).

My toothbrush charger was gone among other things; I won’t bore you with the list but none of them were things someone would steal. Obviously, I had packed them away too well.

All during August, I rummaged through my storage closets, my kids’ rooms, random boxes, the garage, and the cabinets in the kitchen, but to no avail. Last week I gave in and replaced the sweatshirt and the quilted vest, but decided rather than buying new make-up brushes, I would stop wearing make-up. Problem solved.

But the truth be told, it niggled me to not be able to find the stuff and despite my commitment to, “This is what I look like! Take it or leave it!” I little eye shadow now and then might help a few other things along. The time had come to either find the stuff or replace what I needed.

Saturday morning, I woke up early, did some yoga, made a chocolate-banana-cherry protein shake (yes, it’s as good as it sounds), and got to work. My legs were just that right amount of sore (meaning I wasn’t itching to go ride) from my big bike ride the day before, so I was all set for search day.

I started with the kids’ rooms. They seemed the most likely place. Their closets were where I had stored my stuff, admittedly neatly at first, but then literally cramming in a yoga mat, a sweater, the knife block with my really good knives, a ream of special paper, and so on until I had to lean against the doors to close them. I had removed most of my things but maybe I missed a box. The missing stuff must be there amidst my kid's things!

My kids moved out two years ago, so they have already sorted through their rooms and taken what they wanted. What was left was their cast-offs, some of which I find precious, but most of which needed a new home.

I pulled everything out of those rooms and carefully selected what to keep. I set aside some boxes for my kids, just in case someday they change their minds about what is precious. I hope they will, but even if they don’t, I will give them that choice.

I opened three folding tables in front of my garage, advertised my garage sale (giveaways) to my neighbors and members of the local Buy Nothing Group, made a big sign “FREE! ENJOY!” and piled the tables with giveaways. All day cheerful people walked away with art supplies, a computer monitor, books, and so on.

Whenever I came out with a new load and spotted something had been claimed, I wondered what new home it had found. A family who recently moved here from Israel, made my day when they came by later to thank me for the goods their kids picked out.

Hours later, the kids’ rooms looked neat and clean, but I did not find my stuff.

Next, I moved to the linen closet. Again, I pulled everything out, sorted and folded it, and added more items for the giveaway table. A Girl Scout was thrilled with the green Thin Mint tablecloth for her cookie sale and I was thrilled with my organized linen closet, towels neatly folded, and corners stacked, but I did not find my stuff.

Then it was onto my own room, which I have checked a zillion times already. First, I relocated some of my clothing into the kids’ rooms, keeping only what I wear the most often. Now my closet looks like one of those advertisements that you look at and say, “Yes but who only has 5 shirts and 5 dresses?” I did the same with the dresser, moving the things I don’t wear often into Sadie’s dresser. I got rid of all the socks I never liked anyway, all the jeans that I could fit in if I...

I recycled the hangers that didn’t match and climbed on a step stool to wipe down the top shelf of my closet, and still, I did not find my stuff.

Next came the vanity. Now this I had already completely emptied and sorted through twice in the last month. Why? Because I had a very clear memory of putting all those beautiful pots in one of the drawers and remarking on how well they fit. I went through all the drawers again, because they must be right there in front of me, and I didn’t see them.

Out came all the lotions and potions, into the trash went all the out-of-date products, that lotion that I bought but never liked the smell, the pump I had kept just in case Aveda stopped giving pumps with the large shampoo containers (they did that once 10 years ago but have since resumed and clearly I am still scarred), all the travel size shampoos because really I never use them, and now my vanity drawers were all organized and clean, but still, I did not find my stuff.

I ended the day with a very, very clean house but still no idea where my pretty painted pots were hiding.

I awoke this morning, yoga, bike ride, protein shake – you get the pattern- and then I decided that it was time to give up and replace a few things. Although I aspire to never wear make-up again, I do occasionally have to spiff up a bit. The time had come to go to buy make-up brushes.

So there I stood, at my vanity, brushing my hair to go to Sephora when I again remembered the conversation with my renter. We spoke while I was standing right in this spot, cleaning out the vanity drawers for her arrival. She said, “I don’t have very much. You really don’t need to clear out your things. Just a drawer or two will do it.” I clearly remembered easing those pretty blue pots into the drawer of my vanity and suddenly – it clicked. I had it.

Not the vanity drawer. The dresser drawer. That drawer, the bottom right drawer of my dresser, what is in there? Did I ever look there? I know what is in each one of the dresser drawers but what is in that one?

Five quick steps across the room, slide the drawer open, and there it all was. The sweet painted pots with make-up brushes still in them, the soft blue sweatshirt, the well-loved quilted vest, and more.

You know that feeling of relief when you find something you’ve been looking for? It’s like a click, and phew, everything is in place, everything is as it should be.

I know they are just “things” and I am happy to have them all back.

But the point that I’m really stuck on this long Labor Day weekend, is the “Doctor of Divinity lesson” that comes with this one.

How often in life are we searching, searching, searching and the thing we are looking for is right there?

Just open the drawer.

What is the metaphorical drawer that I am not seeing? That I am not opening?

When I slide it open, it will all be there, and I’ll have that feeling of click, and phew, everything is in place, everything is as it should be.

This Labor Day weekend, with kids who no longer live in my home, with empty clean rooms where there used to be paint and homework and snacks squirreled away in desks, with my sister and her family so far away, with my parents gone, I am looking for the drawer.

Please? Where is it?