Lost and Lost

It's hard to keep track of everything when we are packing eight suitcases and six carry-ons. I do my best with the help of ziploc bags and taking constant inventory. However, despite my best efforts, we often lose something when we are making the trip. Once it was one of Myles' knights, another time it was Spencer's tender (a Thomas the Tank Engine toy). This week I left a brand new purple suede head band in the rental car (and I know Betty Beguiles would have approved of this headband). Small things, usually, but still at that moment more than a little disheartening.

Deplaning in Beijing, we did our usual count, and as we got on the jetway, we realized that we had left Myles' brand new Pittsburgh toboggan hat.  I returned to our seat and retrieved the hat, thinking we were in the clear for lost items.

Only when we got to the line for customs did I notice that one of my earrings was now missing. Because I have lost earrings before, I have developed a nervous habit of touching my earrings frequently, checking the backs. This was the first time since leaving the plane I had checked, and I was shocked to find one of my new earrings gone.

I fell to pieces, right there.

These new earrings I had just received as a Christmas present from Myles. While they are certainly pretty earrings, the story behind his gift is certainly bigger than the gift itself.

It started a week before Christmas when Myles announced to his father that he wanted to accompany him to Clarion (the college town near my in-laws' house where we had to go for Internet access) to get my Christmas present. I was surprised, mostly because I knew from the way Myles was asking that he had already decided what he wanted to get me.

I had to wait a week to open my present.  All Randy would tell me was that he couldn't wait to relate what happened at the shop.  He gave a few hints, like Myles and the shop assistant had a conversation about our living in China, with Myles advising her that dumplings were the best food to get if she visited China.  I giggled over these little snippets, but remained completely curious about what Randy wasn't telling me.

Christmas morning came and Myles was beside himself, waiting for me to open his present. I did, finding a beautiful pair of cross earrings. I put them on immediately. At last, too, Randy was able to tell me what happened at the jewelry store.

Myles had decided he wanted to get me some piece of jewelry, like a bracelet or earrings. Randy steered him more towards the earrings. My son hesitated at the selection but then pointed to the gold crosses.

"Those ones," he said. "I want to give my mom the Holy Spirit."

I felt just like in the Gospel when "Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart."  Those words I hope will stay with me and with him (especially him) for the rest of our lives.  I wanted to wear those earrings constantly to remind us of that Christmas wish Myles had to bless me.

But in the line at immigration, too far to turn back to our now closed airplane, I found myself wearing only one "Holy Spirit" earring. I spent the flight barely holding it together as it was, between leaving the US and the anniversary of Maeve's delivery. And now I felt as though I had let my son down. He wanted to give me the Holy Spirit and somehow I lost it. How could I be such a poor steward of such a beautiful blessing?

Myles was also on the verge of tears, but did a better job holding back.  He kept hugging me the rest of the afternoon, telling me how much he loved me. Couldn't we go back to the jeweler and find a new one this summer, he asked. At least you still have one of them, he reminded me.  There was more of this kind of reassurance from him all the way home.

I don't have a lesson to take away from this yet.  Yes, it was just a "thing" and Myles is aware that his affection and blessing don't reside in a "thing," but it was so enjoyable for me to wear them and him to look at them and both of us feel blessed to share these moments at Christmas together.