21. The Tiffany necklace that was my finisher’s “medal” for the one and only marathon I will ever run.
22. I had a blue turtle that my mom ran over with a vacuum when I was really little.
23. My original stuffed animal. He was a dog and my mom accidentally threw him away when I was around 7ish. I’m 16 now but I’d love to have it back.
24. My patience.
oh, and my childhood innocence.
oh, and my temper.
oh, and my marbles.
25. My virginity.
26. The gold earrings my grandma gave me when I was 12. I lost them less than a year after I got them and I still feel guilty.
27. When I was a kid, I loved dinosaurs.
There was a Transformer or Battlebot or something, I don’t remember, but it was a raptor. I had the toy model that could change from raptor to fighter. It was one of the coolest toys I ever owned which is saying something because I hated dolls/action figures.
I’m pretty sure it landed in a ditch somewhere out in the country, by my aunt and uncle’s farm. But the ditch grass is so tall and thick it’s impossible to see where it landed and we weren’t gonna scour the grass for it.
I was a sad boy for life that day.
28. My parents.
29. My dignity.
30. This story starts with one of my oldest plush toys, Tony. He was a small, black-and-white terry cloth dog that I loved dearly. Couldn’t go a night without him in my bed to keep me company. Then there was the hurricane…
In September of 2008, Hurricane Ike started to make its way through the Texas area, where I lived at the time. My parents hurriedly packed bags for us to head out of state, while my siblings and I had no idea what was going on. By the time I realized we hadn’t brought Tony with us, we were already in another city with rain just behind us.
The next two weeks were torturous for me (or as torturous as it could get for a 6-year-old). I had trouble sleeping for the first few nights, wondering what would become of my beloved stuffed dog and just how long I would be away. I had another plush with me, a small Ernie from Sesame Street, and having only him made me hold him all the tighter.
When at last the Houston area was clear of rainfall, my family began the trek back to our house. It was around noon when we pulled up, and I was just tired and ready to be back home. My dad opened the front door… and I heard my mom let out a gasp. I looked in to see soaked insulation filling up the house. No joke, it must have been 4 feet tall throughout the whole building.
So, as you’ve probably guessed, we lost a crap-ton of stuff that day. My dad’s leather recliner was ruined, my sister would need to buy new miniature dolls, and sadly, I was now without a terry cloth dog. Tony was gone.
We ended up getting the house repaired over the course of a year. It looked brand-new, like the houses you’d see on one of those renovation shows on HGTV. And we were safe, we could live there again, everything would be the same. But I never really recovered. There was almost a void, an emptiness that nothing could ever fill. I went through life as normally as I could and eventually decided that some things are just meant to be left in the past.
Fast forward 11 years. I’m sitting alone, reading about people’s earliest memories on a website. As I scroll, a memory slowly rises up in my brain. I remember fondly the nights when I would lie in bed, holding my plush dog. In passing, I wonder if anyone else had the same dog, and I continue scrolling.
But not for long. See, I’m convinced that I have some form of OCD, even though my family denies it. And after thinking about something like that, something that was a huge loss when I was a kid, even for a moment, I couldn’t get it out of my head. That night, I kept turning the idea around in my head. That there might be someone out there on eBay, that they might have the same plush, that they might want to sell it… no, surely not. My mom’s already told me a couple of times in the past that she’s looked for it, that she couldn’t find it, that she had to give up…
But things change with time. I start Googling first thing in the morning. Searches yield small results, become more specific, and soon I see an offer. I leap for it. $30 and a few days of shipping later, in November of 2019… there he was. A small, black-and-white terry cloth dog that I now pet whenever I see him on my shelf. Tony was here.
Nothing from my former life deserve to be recovered. All my efforts are to get rid of it and stay out of radar for good with a chance for doing my own life. But coming from where I come requires much more than just “being left alone”.
17. My children. My ex-wife stole them and ran away and the courts don’t seem to want to help.
I feel your pain buddy, the system sucks 🙁
The drunk driving one was really sad. Poor fellow.