Lost Coin
Grandma Josephine Teply was the only great-grandparent I ever came to know on a personal level. She was a kind, soft-spoken lady who lived for many years in a trailer home behind her son. As a young boy, I would spend afternoons with her playing cards or other games.
When she died they had an estate sale that confused me even at the age eleven. I knew she had nothing. During the last years of her life she didn’t even own a car. The sale was a small affair and was over in less than a few hours.
In a left over pile of garbage, I found a cheap jewelry box with broken bits of costume jewelry inside. One item was a plastic horse head from a chess set. It was small and lightweight and taped to the bottom was something metal.
“Cool.” I mumbled as I tore the tape away. “I hope it’s a magnet.”
Instead I found something infinitely cooler. It was a small silver coin with a date from the mid 19th century. Even at that point in my life, I had a fascination for currency and coins. If it had been American, I would have identified it right away.
A wax impression of the token was sent to a company specializing in rare coins. We received a letter in reply indicating the token was from Bohemia. Aristocrats of the time would disperse these coins as propaganda along parade routes. The commoners would then use them as currency. No real value was associated with the small, silver token just the weightiness of being the only substantive link to my European heritage. (Teply is the Bohemian word for warm.)
Years later, the coin has disappeared. It was the victim of frequent moves and family upheaval.
Money flies faster than time. I’ve lost thousands of dollars buying a home then selling it on a whim to move. Huge amounts of money has been squandered on a college guy’s vain pursuits. I’ve wrecked cars that were given to me for free, which forced me to purchase one. I’ve rented to deadbeats, bought gym memberships I haven’t used, and purchased hundreds of CDs that didn’t age well.
And yet the most frustrating thing to me remains the loss of something that cannot be replaced…history.
July 11th, 2008 at 3:48 pm
There is an old notion that perishable things are more beautiful and valuable because they cannot be renewed – because they fade. I realize the coin itself doesn’t have this quality, but the history involved, the acquisition of the coin, would (I think at least) have such significance. Misplace an old book you’ve read many times and you will find that simply buying a new one doesn’t replace the other.
I guess I am slightly off topic – perhaps you only miss the coin you’ve lost – but in my life I’ve often felt a longing for times past, and things that connect me to them.
Memories are one of the blessings of a conscious mind, if you can accept that things acquire a different meaning once they’re gone.
July 14th, 2008 at 5:44 pm
One of the best posts I have seen. nostalgic.
July 27th, 2008 at 12:22 am
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July 27th, 2008 at 12:22 am
sniff sniff