A lost ball.
But the absolute worst, the one that kept me up nights and made me all kinds of sad was a $5 dollar word of which most third graders had never heard.
Yep, that's the word. The awful, horrific, life-altering terror that ruined everything.
It was a plague that accosted me, wrapped its cold fingers around my heart, ripped it out and crushed it into a powder.
My friends -- Liam, Grace, Georgie, Phillip, and Andrew -- were MOVING.
Because of a "transfer". Liam's job was making him move to Seattle. Half-way across the world where they didn't have Blue Bell or anything else good.
We lost our friends, our confidantes, our partners.
We took them to the airport. There were tears and hugs and I had hope that someone would come running at the last second to say they didn't have to go.
But that didn't happen. They boarded and left, and it was one of the saddest moments of my life.
My fellow redhead, Miss Grace, was gone. And her boys were gone. I cannot tell you how it hurt.
When we got home, my mom started a campaign. She stuck an envelope on the avocado green refrigerator door with the words "Seattle Fund" on the front.
I raced to my room and took every last cent out of my electric blue E.T. vinyl wallet and put it in the envelope.
I prayed and prayed and prayed we'd visit.
But...we never got there.
A life lesson that sometimes God says no.