There are things that we don’t want to happen but have to accept, things we don’t want to know but have to learn, and people we can’t live without but have to let go. ~Author unknown
My mom went to the hospital a few weeks ago, suffering from unexplained dizziness.
That might not sound too serious, but when you’re as old as Mom, it could be, so they ran just about every test they could, yet they still have no diagnosis.
And that’s not the worst part.
While she was undergoing one of the tests, they removed her jewelry and placed it in a denture box for safekeeping.
Afterward, they returned her necklace … but not her wedding band. A plain gold band she’s rarely taken off in more than 60 years.
By today’s standards, it wasn’t worth much. No diamonds or other gemstones. No engraving even.
Yet who can place a monetary value on such a sentimental item?
She and Daddy married after the Big War, and they didn’t have a lot of money set aside for fancy jewelry.
So I can’t imagine anybody wanting to take the ring. And now that Daddy has been in Heaven these past nearly 14 years, all it offered was solace to a widow who still misses her best friend.
I’ve spoken with hospital security. No ring was turned in.
I’ve spoken with a former colleague who now has a high post at the hospital. She’s determined to get to the bottom of this, but hasn’t succeeded.
They’ve retraced their steps — from Mom’s arrival at the emergency room, through all the battery of tests they administered, to her admittance for observation.
How she got the necklace back and not the ring makes no sense. Remember, they were in the same little box.
The staff has checked the laundry, the floor, the machines. Anyone who had contact with Mom has been interviewed.
Mom seems resigned to the loss. Perhaps she just doesn’t want to fight any more battles.
Especially since the ring won’t bring Daddy back.
But my sister and I are heartbroken. That ring was something we’d hoped to keep, to remind us of our parents and the love they had for each other.
“Jewelry” can be replaced, but nothing new means what this old wedding band did.
I’ve read horror stories of the personal items others have had go missing after a hospital stay. Things like wallets, cell phones, hearing aids, and, of course, jewelry.
And I’ll never understand it.
Doesn’t it make sense for institutions like hospitals to make a concerted effort to take better care of the people — and their personal property — that’s entrusted to them?