Treasure

I had the idea back in September: with our 10th anniversary coming up in May, I would squirrel away a wad or two of bills each week. At the time, I imagined I would save up enough to surprise Clyde with a ring … or a gadget … or a watch … or some other small gift to mark the passage of our first decade together.

I kept the money in a not-so-obvious (but convenient) place. Every other Monday or so, I poked left-over bills into my hidey-hole. Over several months, the stack of cash grew.

As a general rule, I didn’t count the money — I wanted to surprise myself with what a dollar here or a dollar there could become with time. Last month, in need of some smaller bills, I finally gave in and totaled up my savings. As it turned out, I had more than $600.00 in what grandma would have called “butter and egg money.”

Not bad for just six months of stuffing spare twenties in a box.

Within the last two weeks, we’ve decided to take a trip to Australia as a way of celebrating the Big Ten. Today, with an eye toward making a major contribution toward that excursion, I crept to my secret hiding place, opened the door — and found that almost all of my money was gone.

The ones were still there, with a single ten dollar bill hidden among them. But all the twenties and all the hundreds had vanished. Frantic, I rummaged through the bookcases and cabinets, hoping against hope that the money had somehow fallen out as I pulled my box from its hiding place.

No luck. No cash.

This hit me hard. I’ve never been much of a saver; putting that money back was a point of pride for me. I felt so good about it, so excited — like a kid watching the quarters accumulate in a piggy bank over time. In my head, I pictured using that money to buy Clyde some wonderful surprise. This was more than cash to me … it was a statement of my intent, a outward sign of my inward dedication to doing something special for someone I loved.

I do not know who took the money, or when, or how — but in stealing it, they’ve taken more than dollars.

My spirit is dark today, and my heart is broken.