RIP D

It all started the other day. I don't know where my brain went, but let's say the mometary lapse in thinking has caused me great grief.

Anyone who knows me is aware of the fact that my Ipod went missing last week. It was given to me by a friend for a good price, and that friend called it "D's Ipod", which thereafter became its name.

D traveled with me all over the place - Montreal, Halifax, Toronto, and Nicaragua. D kept me company while I ran on the treadmill, provided relaxing music as I did yoga, overcame the evil radio on my trips to and from work, and allowed me something to dance to when I had a bit too much to drink in my hotel room in Dartmouth.

Last week, D went misssing. I was surprised how frantic I was becoming simply by not having my loyal Ipod at my side. Suddenly I did not want to go to the gym anymore. Yoga was accompanied by an unnerving silence. I had to dance drunk to nothing! My life seemed ridiculously empty.

I know how stupid this sounds. Hell, when someone calls me at work and gets upset because they have to wait 7-10 business days for a replacement for their lost phone, I think, "Come on. It's just a piece of electronics! Pull yourself together!" And yet, here I was, hair a mess, breath abating, a constant tremor in my hands. All over my stupid Ipod.

I searched everywhere, considered offering a reward for its return, made up lame posters that showed a generic Ipod Shuffle picture, with the headline "Have you seen this Ipod?"

When I found it between my seats in the car, I let out a little whoop of glee, which actually echoed through the parking lot at work. I wouldn't let it out of my sight, held it in my hand for the rest of the day, and actually feared putting it back in my purse when I had to return to work. I was so relieved! My friend had returned!

Sadly, it was not meant to be. Four short hours later (yes, four hours later...) D disappeared again.

For the next few days I harassed anyone who would listen.

"Have you seen my Ipod?"

"Did I give you my Ipod to hang on to for me and I don't remember?"

(While gripping said recipient's shoulders tightly and shaking them back and forth) "PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF THE CHERUBS AND ALL THINGS HOLY TELL ME YOU HAVE MY IPOD!"

The answer was always a terrified, "No!"

All weekend I consoled myself by saying it would turn up. It's probably at work/in the car/gone on a Shuffle sabatical to Turkey and will surely return.

Today I was reunited with D. But it was not in the way I'd hoped.

An email came at around 10:00 today from Kenton at work, who was so close to being my forever hero. He asked me how much I loved him. I told him he was both kind and congenial. He told me he had found my Ipod.

"Great!" I replied via email. "Thank you sooooo much! Where was he?"

The reply came, "In the parking lot."

At that moment, my heart sunk. I gulped and typed, "Has it been run over?"

"Looking a little dirty - maybe."

I rushed from the training room to his desk and squeaked, "Is it okay?"

No. It is most certainly NOT okay. It was like having my dog run away and finding it lying on the side of the road, squashed. I was either going to vomit or cry.

It's blurry, but you get the idea. Click here for Puddle of Raine's beautiful eulogy.