Every morning before walking out the door you might do the same kind of inventory.
Wallet or purse? Check.
You might even do the same thing a few times throughout the day if you’re like me.
And if you’re missing one? Panic.
For the last several days, I’ve felt that panic on a regular basis.
And I have to remind myself that for the first time in my life I have no keys.
Growing up as a latch key kid in Orlando, I’ve always had a key. And as you can tell, as you get older, you get more.
House keys. Car keys. Office keys. If you’re lucky enough maybe even boat keys, motorcycle keys, or keys to your small business.
Those are keys are meant to protect belonging. Right now, I have none.
This time of my life has been a test of toughness and resiliency. It’s a really difficult test. Harder than anything I had to face in the military. At least there you’ve got your brothers and sisters to help get you through it. They won’t let you quit.
Here you’ve got to do it alone. You’ve got to pull yourself up from that ground (and that’s not a metaphor, there are people sleeping on sidewalks and campgrounds out there) and you’ve got to keep fighting. No one will miss you when you’re gone.
But I’m not defeated. Not yet anyways. I’m going to get my keys back. I’m not sure how I’m going to, or how long it will take but I’m not going to quit.
And the next time you pick up your keys, take a second to appreciate them, because I would do anything to have my set back right now.
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