![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxpTZ7E_MLpQvv0rGOn7zKHDGnywTw8tSuKzAwRIdmxaYBdZDqqcM2oEKqKRZ3A5wDdcs2qO-VDx8KiUjk73n_21MV1phmIP4qW5V4mT01oANDYTtTTKV4Loz5A9FB2Fxh7JO2Rw/s200/Timex.jpg)
We scoured the house for the little ticker to no avail. I retraced my steps, tried to remember anything that would give a hint or clue as to its hiding place and finally gave up, hoping it would turn up after we left.
I've bought another, more expensive Expedition which I don't like and a cheap $10 backup for knock-around use. Both stare at me in the bedroom, vainly trying to tick, tick, tick their chronometric way into my heart.
Life has gone on now for six months. Six months of finally losing all hope of seeing my old friendly timepiece. Six months of fading memories.
The story ended this morning as I got dressed for church and found what had been tucked into my pants pocket so many months earlier.