Reality bites

I gave it until today, but alas, nothing. And I doubt it's going to happen now.

Early yesterday morning when I went to the store to post some letters, I found a wallet lying next to a very big truck. Since there were hardly any other vehicles in the lot, it was pretty obvious that it belonged to the driver of that truck. A quick check of the ID, and the wallet and its very relieved owner, Dylan, were reunited without delay. Everyone was happy.

Unfortunately, the same did not happen for me and my wallet. The last day I was in Australia, somewhere between the Darrell Lea chocolate shop and the rendezvous point with my mum, my wallet disappeared. A small amount of money (thank goodness I bought my chocolate supplies before I lost the wallet!), credit card, bank card, and various other bits and pieces of no value to anyone else - all gone in an instant. My mum reimbursed me the money (thanks, Mum), and the cards were cancelled, so in the end, it wasn't too great a loss.

Except for two very important personal items. A photo of my dad that I have had with me since he died 25 years ago. A bit tattered and torn now, it had been trimmed down over the years to fit ever-decreasing wallet sizes. But it was a great photo, the way I remember him, full of life and good humour. The other photo was snapped by an American serviceman on R and R leave about 38 years ago - another story in itself, but suffice to say it was a special memento from a difficult time.

With no trace of the wallet anywhere, self blame quickly set in - "So stupid! How could I have been so careless?!" - and then reality took over - "It could have been worse, and I do have other photos." But now, two weeks after the fact, it's not the loss of the contents that continues to bug me; it’s the missed opportunity for someone to step up.

Presuming the wallet was actually found, it would have been so easy to hand it in to security at the shopping centre, or call my brother’s mobile phone number, or even send it - intact or otherwise - to my Canadian address. Simple acts that would have meant so much.

Regrettably, not everyone wants to step up, but oh, what a world this would be if we did. And we could start by returning lost things to their rightful owners.

There is a slim possibility that the wallet with turn up, but I’m not holding out much hope. In the end, I can attest to the fact that when reality bites, it leaves an impression, a reminder, a mental note to do unto others as you would have them do unto you. It makes for a much nicer world and a much happier ending.

Enjoy your returned wallet, Dylan!