Have you seen my ... ?

We all hate to lose things. It is crazy-making. It can be big things, like finding a parked car, or small things, like an earring. I often write about losing things because it's such a big part of my life. It seems it is something everyone has in common.

The most searched-for items in our house are phones, glasses, and keys. Thank heavens for technology. We can tap our car key fob, and our lost car signals with lights and noise. At one time, I had a yellow Volkswagen that was easy to find in a parking lot. Alas, I now have a generic white Jeep that gets lost in a sea of white cars. Technology also saves the day when I'm searching for my phone. My Apple Watch, always on my wrist, quickly leads me to it.

So we need strategies for our lost items. Like many people in my decade, I need so-called "cheaters" to read. We try and put our keys in the "same place every time"—except for the one time we don't. We set our glasses down for "just a second," only to spend the next half hour looking for them. More than once I've searched the entire house for my glasses while they were perched on top of my head. Can't find a pair? My solution is to keep investing in more. Usually, at least two pairs are waiting wherever I happen to land.

We all agree that losing things is crazy-making. I've got to admit that the older I get, the more frequently it seems to happen. But there is "lost," and then there is "can't find." When is something truly lost? Just how long does something have to be missing before it earns that label? Five minutes? Ten minutes? Hours? Days? Years? Something to ponder.

Big Guy will tell you how much I hate to lose things. Usually, the searches are short. We remind each other to retrace our steps. Any change in a regular pattern leads to disaster. The long searches are the most frustrating — the ones that go on for days, weeks, or maybe even months.

Here's a mystery for the ages: What is it about things that come in pairs, like socks? Why can't socks make it through the laundry together? Maybe there's a sock monster that eats single socks somewhere between the washer and the dryer. I do know that as soon as you find the missing sock, you've already tossed its mate.

But with the agony of losing something comes the joy of finding it. Come to think of it, is there anything more delightful than finding something you thought was lost? It's almost like getting a present. Why do we celebrate with such glee when the lost is found? Maybe it gives us the reassuring sense that, yes, we still have some control over our busy lives — and we're not quite ready for the home.