On losing and finding my book

The other day I lost my book, the autobiography of performance artist Marina Abramovic. It had been a Christmas present.

Today it was returned to me. A lovely lady at South Essex University called me this morning to say she’d found it.

I’d been at the university in Southend Wednesday evening to see my eldest son get a certificate for his commitment to extra-curricular activities. Whilst waiting with all the other parents for the ceremony to start, I lost myself for 20 wonderful minutes with Marina: staying with monks in a Tibetan monastery, walking the great wall of China, then in Amsterdam buying a derelict house full of heroin addict squatters.

Arriving at the station to get the train home I realised the book wasn’t in my bag. My son implored me to go back and find it. He was visibly upset. He told me that when he reads a book, he makes friends with it. For him, it’s as if it’s the only one in the world that exists.

We went back to look where I’d been sitting, but it wasn’t there. I asked at reception. Then I thought, did I drop it outside somewhere? I didn’t think I’d get it back.

I wanted to play it down, show I wasn’t too bothered to limit my son’s upset. But he was right. Half way into the book I felt I know Marina. I can hear Marina’s voice. I am on a journey with her, drawn into her world. I wasn’t ready to be so brutally parted.

But it also taught me a lesson. I’m often saying to the boys about being careful with this, or not to make such a mess, or do you really want to take that to school? I’m sure it’ll get lost. It’s a regular theme — me constantly reminding them to do this, that or the other. But here I’d been disorganised and absent-minded. I’d managed to lose a great weighty tome of a book. I’d needed reminding that we all do it. I didn’t need anyone to berate me for it. I realised I have to bite my tongue a bit more about the kids making their (natural) mistakes. I’d made one of my very own.

I’m so pleased to have it back. And I’ll sure my son will be delighted when I tell him. But actually, I’m glad I lost it in the first place.