I'll find it, I'm sure.

I don't normally share my fiction writing on this blog, but I wanted to share what I wrote this morning. I was thinking of my fear of one day growing old and losing my memories. What would it be like to be slowly going to a place where your mind started turning everything into a dream, awake or asleep? Here's a short story I wrote that I call "I'll find it, I'm sure."

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I'll find it, I'm sure.

It’s gone, it’s gone, and I just don’t know where. I’ve been searching about through the house, searching here and searching there. I can’t quite recall what it looked like anymore, but I know that it’s gone and I have to find it. Surely I just had it sometime not too long ago. Maybe I had it the last time that it snowed, but when was that now? It’s spring here, but spring in the mountains can mean snow at any time really. Ergh, I swear I keep losing it these days and I just don’t know why. If maybe I could think of part of it or frame it with something else, the thought might come back. Maybe on the bookshelf with my pictures and knickknacks. Is it a picture of someone or some kind of a toy? Hmmm. No. I don’t think that’s quite right, it surely isn’t someone I know or knew and probably not something to be played with. Or maybe that’s just the problem. Maybe those dogs took it for play, and I’ll find it chewed up somewhere today. I dig through the dog’s toy basket but all I see are toys and stuffed things, like cheetahs and octopuses and an otter whose stuffing is all but ripped out. Ugh, there must be something that can help to place this thing that is gone. If only I could get my mind to think. Think, think, think, think. Where is it? What is it? Why is it gone anyway? Is it gone because I’m forgetful or because it never gave me a strong enough thought? No, at least not the latter, because then I wouldn’t know that it’s gone, and I wouldn’t have been searching through this house for so long. Maybe that’s it! Maybe it’s not in the house. Let’s look outside by the shed where I keep all the things that used to mean more to me before I grew old. Mountain bikes and a kayak, some old two-stroke parts, extra tools for grilling that I never really use. No, not here. It’s certainly not here. Maybe if I stop looking it will come to me instead. Maybe I should go for a walk and try to clear my head. I step down the lane with trees to my sides, growing quite high as they reach for the sky. The day feels so warm, even though we live so high up. I decide to kick some stones while I walk. Just like I did when I was a youngin’, I’m sure. Well, maybe… Come to think, I can’t quite recall. Maybe that’s what I’ve lost! Maybe my childhood is lost and needs to be found. But just now I look to the ground, where I see a puddle beneath me and on its surface the sky. Also some trees and then there’s me. Is it me? I’m not sure. I’ve truly grown old. As I look at that pool, I see myself as a child. I remember my parents and Maddie and Kyle. Maddie and Kyle, just now, their faces are there. Looking at me through a puddle by the lane by my home. Or maybe not. Maybe they’re looking at me just now from somewhere closer than that. I hear someone speaking, something about “coming round” and “hello”. I know that what’s missing is somewhere now very close. I see Maddie and Kyle, their faces are so young. Too young. They can’t be here. They died long ago. “Who are you?!” I shout, as I stare them down. I know that they’re not Maddie and Kyle, so maybe they’re imposters and they’ve taken what’s gone. I thought I’d get mad, but those little faces are crying. Crying little faces, especially those that look like Maddie and Kyle, are not something to be mad at, not for more than a short while. I say to them now, and yet somehow I’m sure that I’ve said it before, “Do you know what I’ve lost? I can’t find it no more.” I feel people touching me, and it doesn’t feel good. Something is wrong here and I sink back away. The next thing I know I’m standing again by my shed on a beautiful fall day. Fall in the mountains can be quite a sight. There’s color to the leaves of some trees while others stand stark and dark green against a backdrop of mist and clouds. The smell of smoke from a fire is surely on the air. But right now, I don’t think I quite care. It’s lost, you see. It’s gone, it’s gone, and I just don’t know where. But I’m sure I can find it about if I just look here and then there. Maybe it’s by this old shed that seems like something I once used to know. Maybe it was mine onced, I really don’t know. “Blast it all to tarnation,” I say as I stump away from that shed that stands on that beautiful fall day. I look at the house standing by and now I’m quite sure, that it’s lost in there somewhere and I just need to go look. I’ll find it, I know, if I just take some time. As I step up to the door, I hear a voice on the wind. I turn to look and see faces of people in the sky. Some of them look happy and some sad, though I really don’t know why. “I’m on a mission,” I say, “You see, it’s gone, and I must find it, whatever it takes.” The sky faces they know me, and I think I know them, but I must find it and so I turn back to this house once again. It’s in there, I know it, and I’ll find it for sure. I just need to know where to look once I walk through this door. No time to worry, I’ll find it, I’m sure.