Two weeks ago I got the dreaded phone call at 3am. My mother had died after battling a dreadful illness, amyloidosis. Six months of chemo done nothing except worsen her quality of life. Me and my wife had already booked a flight to Scotland to visit in June, so after some negotiating on the phone we managed to transfer our flight for the same day.
At my parents I spotted the clay pig by the kitchen window. I vaguely remember buying it for my mother when I was at a trip to Edinburgh zoo when I was five years old. I had this urge to take it back to the States with me. For some reason it just felt like the right thing to do, so on the last day it was packed in with the rest of the luggage.
The snow storm that hit the east coast meant we got diverted to Newfoundland where we spent six hours before finally getting to Newark. Then we waited another 18 hours before getting a flight to Columbus.
When we go home we unpacked all our luggage but the clay pig was nowhere to be seen. Everything was there except the pig. I searched everywhere and was getting into a panic. For two days I was frantic and agitated, kicking stuff around the house and looking in stupid places like the fridge and mailbox.
When I had lost all hope I was talking to my wife in the washroom and started kicking clothes around in frustration, and there it was under the clothes. It must have got caught in a shirt on something in the luggage and had escaped our searching. The relief was unbelievable.
The clay pig has survived four house moves and a house fire that destroyed everything. After giving it to my mother 32 years ago, it's now home with me.
Not much point to this post really, except to say I'm so happy I finally have the clay pig.
At my parents I spotted the clay pig by the kitchen window. I vaguely remember buying it for my mother when I was at a trip to Edinburgh zoo when I was five years old. I had this urge to take it back to the States with me. For some reason it just felt like the right thing to do, so on the last day it was packed in with the rest of the luggage.
The snow storm that hit the east coast meant we got diverted to Newfoundland where we spent six hours before finally getting to Newark. Then we waited another 18 hours before getting a flight to Columbus.
When we go home we unpacked all our luggage but the clay pig was nowhere to be seen. Everything was there except the pig. I searched everywhere and was getting into a panic. For two days I was frantic and agitated, kicking stuff around the house and looking in stupid places like the fridge and mailbox.
When I had lost all hope I was talking to my wife in the washroom and started kicking clothes around in frustration, and there it was under the clothes. It must have got caught in a shirt on something in the luggage and had escaped our searching. The relief was unbelievable.
The clay pig has survived four house moves and a house fire that destroyed everything. After giving it to my mother 32 years ago, it's now home with me.
Not much point to this post really, except to say I'm so happy I finally have the clay pig.
