What's In Your Wallet?

 Jennifer Garner would hope that the only thing you have to worry about is your Capital One Card. That way, if you lost your wallet, you would only have to worry about replacing that one card. But of course this is not the world in which we all live, even you Jennifer Garner because I am sure you have your SAG-AFTRA membership tucked away in there and maybe even your Starbucks card for safekeeping. 

I don't have any of those. Not anymore. Not that I would know what to do with a Starbucks card. And I am still awaiting the no-star elementary school remake of Breaking Bad to be made so I can become a card-carrying member of the actor's union. I don't have a wallet. Except for the velcro substitute my wife dug up for me. Each time I hear that tearing sound I feel as if it is my beating heart being ripped from my body. Not because I personally have any issues with velcro wallets, but my previous wallet was a gift from my wife. Beautiful blue Italian leather. Imported by her as a replacement for the buffalo leather she bought for me an age ago. And ages before that she gave me a wallet made from the same material as an infielder's glove. 

Each time she gifted me with a new one, it was because I had worn the old one out. Sitting on them apparently puts a lot of strain on a wallet. That and lugging around the various and sundries that come with my lifestyle. Not the wads of cash, mind you. I am a public school teacher, after all. This is the place I put my school teacher's union card. And those not-Capital-One cards that occasionally buy me a cheeseburger or tank of gas. 

And the photos. That's the true heartbreak. I carried pictures of my son from the time he was a tiny baby to his senior portrait from high school. And that one that has me balancing him with one arm as we celebrated the first Broncos Super Bowl victory. I had a snap of my father and I crossing the finish line of the Bolder Boulder 10K race together. In addition to some very nice photos of my wife, I made a point of hanging on to the receipt from the county clerk who issued our marriage license. 

And my membership cards to Club DEVO, The Oingo Boingo Secret Society and the Pee-Wee Herman Fan Club. Vestigial scraps of paper from my youth. 

Still carrying them around.

Because I don't lose my wallet.

Until now. 

I can cancel the credit cards and order a new Kaiser ID. The DMV will deliver me a new license in their own sweet time, but those memories are now what I have to connect me to the way things used to be. Back before I lost my wallet.