Missing. Lost. Gone: The urban edition

The other day, when I opened my laptop to access my two email accounts, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The one account was empty — totally empty. The other was, as I expected, full of messages. Oh my goodness, what had I done?

Both email accounts are also on my phone; however, only one is synched with the laptop version. At least, that’s what I had thought. With my original account, if I read a message on one device, it shows as ‘read’ on the other. With the other account, this is not the case: every message in that account, opened or read on one device, is as if never opened or read on the other. Therefore, I had thought it perfectly safe to tidy up that account on my phone, as it was sucking precious memory capacity from the (very) old operating system: Select all, I had commanded. Edit. Delete. Sure? Yes, sure. And, poof, gone from my phone. But safe still on my laptop, thought I. Until I saw that it wasn’t.

And isn’t that just how it goes? A little knowledge — erroneous in this case — can lead to disaster. I really should have known better and for two reasons: One, I’m no computer geek, just a competent user who relies on “Mr. Google” to find me the answer to questions trivial and vital. (Why didn’t I google ‘synch email accounts’ before I commanded ‘delete all’ on my phone, you ask. An excellent question, indeed.) Two, the day had already been filled with things lost — a house key, a debit card, a library card; I was on a roll with losing things. My emails ended up being just one more category on that list.

But, really, it's not a disaster, is it, to lose a bunch of emails? Fortunately, I have trained myself to move the most urgent or important to a sub-folder, safe from ‘select all’ commands in the mother in-box. Those I still have.

What I don’t have are several hundred emails of dubious value. Ditto the key, which remains resolutely missing. As for the debit and library cards, I found them in a secure and seldom-used pocket of the shorts I wore the other day. All of which puts me on the plus side of the lost/gained ledger, I think.

In an entirely other sphere of lost (in translation) and, maybe, becoming found (through action): Last week, the Pope was in Canada on a “journey of penance”. On the first day, during his first apology to Indigenous people for what they had endured as students in residential schools, the English translation of his speech included the word “investigation” for the Spanish word “busqueda”. This caused justified consternation for many, as the evils of residential schools have already been investigated by Canada's Truth and Reconciliation Commission; we know what happened. We don’t need more study; we need action. So it was good to learn that the use of “investigation” had been an error in translation; the Vatican has clarified that the more accurate translation is “search”: “One of the Vatican officials said the Pope wanted to deliver the message that “the story of the abuses is not over” as far as the Vatican is concerned, and that more evidence of the abuses could emerge, perhaps when more church documents are brought to light — a potentially long process.” You can read the full story in this Globe and Mail article.

Searching is good; it is active. It means we believe that what is missing can still be found. I knew immediately my emails were lost forever. I've given up on my key. But I remain hopeful that the ongoing “busqueda” (search) by the Pope and his church will yet yield what survivors have been waiting for. 

My original “Missing. Lost. Gone: The wilderness edition” post can be read here.

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Land acknowledgement: I respectfully recognize that I live on the original lands of Anishinaabe, Cree, Oji-Cree, Dakota and Dene peoples, and on the homeland of the Métis Nation.

Photo by Brian Tromp on Unsplash