I remember the cold February day I lost the partner to this earring. My mother was in hospital and I was rushing between there and our respective homes taking care of a thousand things. I think I went to the bank. I was wearing a pashmina wrapped high round my neck to keep out the cold. At the end of the day I went to take out my earrings and one had gone. I was so upset; I really loved these turquoise and silver drops.
I judged myself harshly for being careless, for rushing, for not being mindful. I didn’t know what to do with the remaining earring. In some ways it is worse to have just one. I can’t wear it by itself and yet I couldn’t bear to get rid of it. I almost feel that it taunts me, every time I see it, for carelessly losing its other half .
After this loss I ordered some of those little plastic tubes that you can thread on to the back of this kind of earring, so that it can’t easily slip out of your ear. Clever me! I won’t lose another earring!
As you will have gleaned from the title of this post, I was wrong.
These silver earrings were really cute. Studs shaped like little flowers, I wore them a lot. Because they were studs and not dangly, I used to keep them in when I showered or washed my hair.
Then the fateful day came. Bear in mind that I live in the countryside and our village is famous for its mud. I have a big dog and on this particular day I had probably been walking him on the muddy sea wall. I may have been gardening. I didn’t realise anything was wrong until I was washing out the bathtub after a nice relaxing soak. There was some sort of grit or stone in the bath and, lazily, I pushed it down the plughole. Then I went to dry my hair. Imagine my consternation when I realised that I had washed my own earring down the plug! I consulted with people who know more than I do about drains (my brother, mainly) and was advised, sadly, that my poor earring would not be retrievable. Another one bites the dust.
You may be wondering how many other ways I can find to lose earrings. Well, there is at least one more, and it’s quite recent. Let me set the scene. It’s 2020 and in March/April I wasn’t too well. I still wasn’t feeling great in May and June, but I tried to cheer myself up by at least putting on some of my favourite earrings. Little plastic tubes in place to keep them secure.
This is another story connected to my late mother. She had given me these lovely enamel earrings which remind me of William Morris. I loved wearing them because of the colour and how light they are despite being very striking. They also reminded me of Mother.
I didn’t realise anything was wrong for some time. I felt tired for ages while I slowly got better (I was never tested – it was some sort of chest virus…) and when I went to bed I would just remove my earrings and put them on the chest in my room, waiting for a burst of energy to motivate me to put them away. These earrings live, with other dangly ones, on a stand which is handy because I can see what I’ve got.
Anyway, days, maybe even weeks later, the burst of energy came and I decided to put away the various pairs of earrings I’d worn recently. I hunted for the other half of this pair. And hunted. And hunted. Nothing.
I have actually managed to lose an earring in my own bedroom. I’ve taken the chest of drawers apart and emptied all the drawers and even shone a torch into the gap between the skirting board and the wall (it’s a very old house). Still nothing. I haven’t quite given up hope, and after vacuuming my room I check inside the Dyson to see if there is anything metal before I empty it.
Quite a sad story. Even sadder than the preceding ones. Perhaps I should find a happier one to end the post with? Luckily, I do have just one happy earring story.
These bead earrings aren’t really precious but I’m quite fond of them. The beads are made of different crystals and represent the seven chakras. Way back, before I thought of buying the little plastic tubes, I lost one of them. I was, predictably, really annoyed with myself. I even contacted the woman who made them to ask if she would make me just one to complete the set again. She replied saying she only makes earrings two at a time. I tried to forget about it.
Winter came and went. In the spring, I was just getting out of my car on the shingle drive and I noticed something shiny, colourful. It was the lost earring! I couldn’t believe that I had been driving over it sometimes several times a day, probably stomping on it with my winter boots, and it had survived all the cold, icy, mushy winter weather.
Some lost earring stories have happy endings. Some don’t. Let me know if you have suggestions for my lone, lonely, single earrings!
