How I Lost My Car, Not My Keys

Every one of us has lost our cell phone, our car keys, or our house keys – and sometimes it seems we’ve lost our minds. Usually, we blame it on misplacing them.  Some days they’ve been right where we’ve put them, but we just couldn’t find them because we forgot where we put them. When we found them, they’d been there all along.

There was the day a few years back, however, when I lost my car. The really sad thing is that I was the one who parked it there. When I came out of my house to go to my neighbor’s to pick up a cake, the car was missing.  So, apparently, was my brain.

That morning, I’d met my daughter in Riverdale and parked my car in the parking lot of Food Lion. We’d traveled forty-five minutes to attend a benefit auction. Sarah Beth had spent the night with her cousin and a friend at her aunt’s house. We’d discussed meeting her at the house and parking my car there. Later, we’d decided it would be quicker for meeting and returning to have the car in a more central location.

We spent a rainy day at the auction, where I purchased colorful mums for my flower beds this autumn. We came back the same way we’d gone, only I was driving this time.

A friend who had been with us was in the front seat and my daughter had fallen asleep in the back.  When we came through  Riverdale, I kept on driving, never thinking about my car.

A few hours later, I was heading to my neighbor’s house to pick up a cake for a get-together that evening.

When I went to find my car, it wasn’t there, so I took the Jeep. On my way to the neighbor’s, I called Jason.

“Where is my car?” I asked him.

You need to understand that my kids have, at times, “taken” my car without my knowledge. Usually they’ve cleared it with their father, but usually, no one bothers to tell me. I thought this was one of those times.

“Mama, I’m in Danville and I don’t know where your car is,” he said cautiously, probably wondering if I had really lost my marbles this time.

“Oh that ‘s right.’Sorry about that,” I told him.  I know where it is.”

Quickly, I called my sister-in-law. I thought since we were both going to the same place that evening, maybe she could bring the car when they headed in our direction.

“Your car isn’t here,” she told me. I could hear the question in her voice as she explained her recollection that my gal had left her house that morning and was going to meet me in Riverdale. I’m sure she also thought her sister-in-law had lost her marbles.

“Oh, I am so stupid!” I exclaimed.  “Never mind.  I know where it is.”

The next morning at breakfast I told my gang about the loss of my car – how I’d called two people before I remembered where I had left the car. How did I manage to forget where I had parked my car?

I don’t know.

My friend and I were in a deep discussion on the way home and picking up that extra vehicle was the farthest thing from my mind. I’d stopped to fuel the car I was driving and drove right past Food Lion where my car was parked.

I guess the next time I can’t remember, it will be time to park my brain as well.