“To be revealed” is one of my favorite expressions. I mainly use it when I talk to my mother and she wants to know the answer to something I’d rather tell her about in an email. I have used that expression so much that sometimes she will use it when I ask her a question. I have used it so much that I think it must be in the air space and things in my life and both of ours–have adapted it as well.
At the end of May I started wearing a rainbow-colored velcro strap to tie back my pant leg when I bicycled. I loved it because it was colorful and a friend had given to me. I wore it in June and most of July. I wore it till it disappeared. The last time I had seen it was when I removed it from my pant leg, then put it in my bike pouch. The next time I went biking, it was gone.
I searched everywhere–inside, outside, my partner’s car. Gone. Will I ever see you again, dear bike strap? was the question I thought often during the rest of the summer. If the bike strap could have spoken, I’m sure it would have said, “To be revealed.”
I went into deep mourning for awhile, then I moved on: a few weeks ago I bought a neon yellow bike strap. I love the color and it makes me super visible.
Today I did laundry and, as is often the case, a sock was missing. I looked for it in my laundry bag, on the right side of the bag, and beneath a cloth storage container. No sign of my sock, but what’s that rainbow-colored strap peeking out from under the cloth container? Yes, we had reunited at last.
In late September my mother sent me a Priority Mail package. She had heard and read several news stories about the Postal Service slowing down and wanted me to get the contents quickly. Priority Mail is predicted, but not guaranteed, to arrive in two to three business days. Her package did not arrive then. Eleven days later it arrived at the sorting station for my area and I imagined it would arrive the next day. It didn’t. Another week went by. No package. When she tracked it, she found out that on the same day it arrived in my area, it also had been sent back to her.
Would I ever get that package? we both wondered. Just yesterday, we discussed it; she thought it was long gone and I resigned myself to its absence. If the package had a voice, it would have said, “To be revealed.”
For in today’s mail I received a rather weathered-looking envelope. One that seemed well-traveled and, I was certain, had many stories to tell about its five weeks on the road. My Priority Mail package had arrived.
If you’ve lost anything and wonder if you’ll find it again, tell yourself, “To be revealed.” You never know what surprises will come your way.