Lost and Found ~ the story

Our terrific holiday weekend was marred by one very unfortunate incident ~ my husband lost his wallet.  We had gone hiking and upon our return, when he couldn't find his keys, he unloaded his backpack and in doing so, placed his wallet on the side running board of the car.  Jubilant to finally find them hidden safely deep within his pack, he stuffed everything back into the bag but forgot his wallet ~ and off we drove.  And, you guessed it, the wallet fell off the running board onto the street, a loss which was discovered shortly after we drove away.  After quickly retracing our steps and realizing it had been picked up by someone, I called and canceled all credit cards on our drive home.

But that's not the story.  The story is about our mutual attitudes about the loss.  Ever the "realist," I was sure that the wallet was irretrievably lost.  After all, it contained $100, two credit cards, a bank ATM card, his driver's license, a Golden Eagle lifetime parks pass and our wedding photo.  It was a new wallet to boot.  Gone.  Long gone.  My husband, on the other hand, ever the "optimist," was certain that some good citizen had found it and he would soon be receiving a phone call to claim it.


Hours passed.  No call.  I wasn't smug in my "victory" because I knew that it wasn't pleasant to lose a wallet and have to replaced the documents.  My husband, while remaining hopeful, was slowly beginning to come over to my dark side on this matter....and around 8:00pm at night, the phone rang.  It was, indeed, about his wallet.


To cut the story short, it had turned up about 30 miles away in a very questionable part of town, so questionable the police advised us not to go there in the day time let alone at night.  Now I figured that by asking my husband to come pick up his wallet, the "finders" were setting him up to be mugged.  So instead, he suggested that the wallet be dropped off at their local police station where he would pick it up ~ which the "finders" (surprisingly) said they would do.


So what's the morale of the story?  Don't know yet, it hasn't ended.  I don't even know whose attitude/outlook on this matter was vindicated, mine or my husband's.  I mean there is a balance between optimism and being realistic.  I think, however, that hopeful is a word that is always "correct" and I think that's what this story is really about.  Hope and trust.  Tomorrow's post will tell.