DADS READ: “Lost. Found.” by author Marsha Diane Arnold and illustrator Matthew Cordell

 DADS READ: “Lost. Found.” by author Marsha Diane Arnold and illustrator Matthew Cordell explores the the meaning of being "lost" and "found" through the journey of a scarf that gets blown away from a bear, later "found" by some raccoons, only to be "lost" through conflict.  The scarf gets "lost" and "found" over and over again.  "Lost" through an unfortunate snag of a branch that pulled it off a beavers head.  "Lost" though an accidental fall.  "Lost" through forgetfulness.  "Lost" through play.  Each time it is "lost", it is "found" again by a new party, until the scarf is destroyed when all of the parties rediscover the scarf at the same time.  Eventually it is "found" while they work together to knit the threads back together and find community in the process.  

The variations on "loss" made me reflect deeply on the times I've experienced loss.  I can think of many, but one that stood out was an episode from a time Mallory and I were going to school at the University of Utah.  We were living in married student housing, money was tight, but we were managing to get by.  I was feeling a deep calm as I felt like I was easing my way into adulthood when my trust in humanity was shaken when I discovered my back passenger window smashed out and my car stereo missing one winter morning.  It seemed like such a small thing.  It was only some property, only some glass, only a few appointments to get fixed, and a few hundred dollars.  BUT the real loss was my "peace of mind".  I quickly realized how vulnerable we were at all times, how easily things could go bad in the wrong circumstances, and the usual calm I experienced was broken by fear that more things would go missing and I would not be able to prevent it with new, stronger glass or thicker, stronger locks.  

Another episode: last October, my family was at Boo at the National Zoo, and I lost my five-year-old (Lake) in the crowd for about 15 minutes.  It was at night, it was hard to recognize anyone or anything because of the massive crowds and the entire zoo was decorated for Halloween.  Compounding the problem, the National Zoo is built on a hill, so I had to quickly decide if Lake had wandered down the hill or walked past us going up the hill.  After running down the hill calling her name without any luck, I turned around and ran up the hill.  Thankfully a kind couple had noticed Lake while she was alone and looking around in confusion.  They quickly calmed her down and stayed with her until I arrived calling her name.  Up to that point, she had been so immersed in trick-or-treating the booths that she never really got alarmed that we were separated.  I'm very thankful for the kindness of strangers and the goodness of humanity.

When I think of "loss", of being "lost", and of being "found", I think of these two episodes.