Lose and Loss

I lost my skate key when I turned ten and couldn't tighten my skates until my friend Annie decided that she'd opt for skating instead of playing jump rope.

My half angora sweater ended up in the washing machine and was a complete loss.I wondered how many angora rabbits it took to make a skein of yarn.

Once I lost my house keys. We changed the locks because I had grown up in New York City and couldn't sleep thinking that someone might be trying locks until the lost key opened our door. A week later I found the keys between the lining of my coat and the interior wool. They slipped through a pocket hole.

I lost my desire to become an artist when I discovered that my talent was marginal at best — and that I'd have to practice, practice and practice.

Who hasn't lost their innocence or lost their belief that everything can be fixed—just find the right adhesive.

My mother kept an empty Concord Grape glass filled with buttons. Lose a button and rummage through the collection trying to find, if not a match, then a close enough button.

Lose a bet.
Lose a game.
Lose a tooth—but the tooth fairy makes everything worthwhile.
Mourn the loss of someone you love, of someone you knew well enough to care about.

Then there's the loss of the five minute mile you never could attain or the mountain that eluded your ability or the chance to go spelunking deep into the earth or the loss of waiting too long before donning a bikini.

Some losses you don't touch because they're hot and fragile.