Where are the Scissors?
Have you ever gone looking for the scissors and said, “I’d give anything if just once, I found the scissors where they actually belong!” I used to say that all the time.
When my youngest son was in preschool, one of the moms gave me a great idea. Every year for Christmas, she gave each member of her family a new pair of scissors in their stocking. This increased the likelihood that she would be able to find her own sometimes. She expected that when they move out she would find fifteen pairs of scissors hidden in all the nooks and crannies of their rooms. Sadly, she said, that never happened. Scissors seem to disappear with the mismatched socks. I adopted that idea with my family. As predicted, when my sons moved out, there were no scissors to be found.
That was not true in the case of my husband. After he died, I found potentially every pair of his Christmas scissors hidden everywhere. I found a pair in his top drawer on top of a pile of mushy greeting cards I had given him that he was saving. They were everywhere in his shop, along with the gadgets I had given him over the years. I remembered him opening them and using them, and loving them, or not. I found them in the glove compartment and console of his truck, which I still can’t bring myself to sell because it’s the last piece of him I have left. Every pair of scissors invited more tears.
I am now the proud owner of 20 pairs of his scissors in addition to my own. They are always exactly where I left them. They never move even one single inch, even mine. I would give anything if my scissors were missing. Because that would mean he was here using mine instead of his. I would have my best friend back and I would never complain about the scissors, the wet towels, or the household items disappearing into the shop or the tent.
Be careful what you wish for…