By Gwen Rockwood, newspaper columnist and mama of 3
A few weeks ago, I misplaced my wireless earbuds. I was so frustrated because I really try to keep track of them. They were expensive little buggers, and I wear them daily to listen to audiobooks while I’m out walking, doing laundry, or running errands.
Usually, misplaced items turn up somewhere in the house even when I’m not actively looking for them. But that didn’t happen this time. When I still hadn’t run across them two days later, Tom said I should borrow his earbuds, so I did. And then one day later, I misplaced those, too. After failing to find the second missing pair, I dug through my desk and found an ancient pair of over-the-ear headphones, charged them up, and wore those for a day.
You’ll think I’m making this up for dramatic effect, and I assure you, I’m not. The very next morning, I couldn’t find those blasted headphones, either. I would’ve sworn Tom was hiding things from me as a practical joke, but he wouldn’t do something that would put me in such a foul mood, since he has to live in such close proximity to it.
So I was left with one of two painful possibilities: either I was definitely losing my mind (in addition to three pairs of earbuds), or I was an irresponsible, unorganized, reckless idiot who could not be trusted with anything. I was on the fence about which option was accurate, but more than anything, I was furious with myself.
When you’re mad at yourself, you can tell yourself off or even call yourself names as I did, but you can’t ever punctuate it by dramatically storming off and slamming the door behind you. As that old movie line says, “No matter where you go, there you are.”
The next day, I vowed to try again. But to avoid working myself into another frustrated frenzy, I asked God if He could please send the spirit of my grandma to come help me find at least one of the missing things. I know that sounds nuts, but I’ve said this prayer before when something goes missing.
My grandma was famous for her knack for finding things. One time, my aunt lost an earring during a visit to Grandma’s small country house, which sat on a large grassy lot bordered by a vegetable garden and a chicken coop. My aunt had roamed all over the yard before realizing the earring had fallen off, so there was no way to narrow the search area.
But Grandma wouldn’t give up. She spent hours walking careful lines around that yard, and, before sunset, she found it — a tiny fleck of diamond in a sea of unmowed grass. We were all stunned.
Now, back to those missing earbuds. Perhaps Grandma’s spirit whispered in my ear that day because, instead of searching the house again, I searched my own history. I examined my calendar and to-do list, trying to remember where I’d gone and what I’d done. I felt inside every pocket of every pair of pants I’d worn. Nothing.
But then I remembered how cold it had been earlier that week. So I checked the pockets of every coat hanging by the door. One coat was missing, so I looked in the car and saw it draped across the back seat. The first coat pocket was empty, but the second pocket was zipped closed. And just beyond that zipper? The earbuds! Oh, sweet relief!
I thanked God and Grandma and then celebrated with a walk outside while wearing the found earbuds. The following day, without even looking, I ran across the earbuds I’d borrowed from Tom under a tin of breath mints in my car. And later that night, I discovered the navy blue over-the-ear headphones hidden under a navy blue sweater in my bedroom. Finally, order and sanity had been restored.
When our kids were growing up and lost something around the house (which only happened at least four times a week), I’d always tell them to look “under and behind” things instead of expecting to spot it in plain view. Most of the time, the strategy worked. And now, I’ve learned my own lesson because all three of my missing things were either inside, under, or behind something else.
I’ve also learned that part of finding anything is slowing down long enough to remember where you were, what you did, what you wore, and the car you drove — all possible clues that may help solve the mystery.
If that doesn’t work, feel free to ask God to send my grandma to walk alongside you during your search. Her name is Louie, and she had beautiful white hair, eagle eyes, and a kind smile. Tell her Gwen sent you.
May 2026 be the year we all find something we’re looking for — big and small. The missing keys or misplaced earbuds. Or maybe a lost connection to someone who was important in your life. Maybe it’s a sense of peace that has been just beyond your reach for a while now. Whatever it is we need most this year, let’s go find it.
Gwen Rockwood is a syndicated freelance columnist. Email her at gwenrockwood5@gmail.com. Her column is available on Amazon.
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