Remember that time when I forgot my luggage?

I love Thanksgiving.

I had been looking forward to the long weekend for weeks, and when the clock finally struck 3pm on Friday, I was busting to leave work and get on the road to see my family.

The Hubster actually beat me home from work, and was busy gathering all the supplies he’d need for his planned hunting trip the next day. I offered to pack our duffel bags so that we could leave quickly.

Forty-five minutes later our bags were packed and we were ready to go. He was busy organizing everything into the back of our truck, so I did the final walk through the house to make sure we were set to go.

As the major highway to my parent’s house is often a parking lot on Friday evenings after work, we decided to take a back way up north. It took a little longer, but it was such a beautiful drive. We took our time and enjoyed all the beautiful colors, and even stopped for dinner at a little chip truck before finally making our way into B-town.

We spent a couple of hours visiting with my parents, but by 10pm I could barely keep my eyes open. My mom bid us goodnight, and went upstairs to get ready for bed. The Hubster was making trips to and from the truck to collect his hunting gear, so I asked him to grab my bag on his way in.

Hubs: “…I didn’t see your bag in the truck.”

At first I thought he was joking around, so I laughed a little and asked him again to go look.

He wasn’t kidding.

I could feel the panic rising in my throat as I flew out the front door to inspect the truck for myself. Sure enough, the bed was empty and there was nothing behind our seats.

It hit me like a wave: I had nothing.

So, I did what any self-respecting, overly-emotional pregnant woman would do: I laid my head into my arms on the hood of the truck and started to sob. Giant, body-shaking sobs. In my driveway.

The Hubster rushed to my side to collect me and help me into the house. He immediately transferred into (loving) boss mode and instructed me to get upstairs to catch my mom before she went to bed and tell her my plight.

Still sobbing like a crazy woman, I waited for my mom to finish brushing her teeth before knocking on her door. She immediately went into Mom-mode and hugged me until I could get myself together. We sat down and tried to piece together what I had with me and what I needed.

The short version? I needed everything.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Somehow I forgot everything… except my shoes. So, after inventorying my things, I had my purse, the clothes on my back, a coat and a bag of shoes.

Mom went to work, and in less than 5 minutes I had pajamas, a toothbrush, and clothes to wear for the next day. Unfortunately I had decided to wear my contacts that day, so I had no glasses or contact case. Luckily the Hubs had some spare contact solution in his shaving bag, and my mom had two big spoons that I was able to use for my contacts that night.

You’d think this herculean effort made by my mom would cheer me up a little, but I was so distraught. (And extremely overtired. ha.)

You see, I’m a “what if” packer. I pack well, but I also pack for a number of scenarios. I hate not being prepared for something. For this particular trip, I had clothes packed for warm and colder weather, an outfit for church, comfy clothes for if I wasn’t feeling well, and an outfit to wear for the photos the Hubster and I planned to take for our Christmas letters. I had all my vitamins, as well as my Tums in case my heartburn flared up. My computer. The camera. Pajamas.

And then there’s all the little things I take for granted on a daily basis: glasses, make-up, face wash, hair straightener, hair brush, tooth brush, deodorant and a host of other products I use on a daily basis to make myself feel like a human being.

I had nothing. And for me, not having my own things was so stressful.

When I finally crawled blindly into bed (my contacts were already in their spoons), the Hubster held me close and offered to drive back the next morning to pick up my things for me. I loved him so much in that moment–but I knew I couldn’t ask him to waste the time, gas and money to make such an unnecessary trip. I knew it was up to me to suck it up and not let this ruin our weekend.

When the morning finally dawned, he crept out early for his hunting trip after I assured him one last time that I’d survive without my things. I tried to sleep a little longer after he left, but as I’d barely slept all night it just wasn’t happening.

By the time I opened my bedroom door on Saturday morning my mom was already bustling to get me organized. Peeah, having heard of my situation, called my mom early to let her know that she had left a bag of maternity pants for me at the house a few days earlier and instructed my mom on where to find them.

So, armed with pants that fit and a shirt from my mom, I trekked over to my new favourite store: Walmart. I grabbed a cart and an hour and $130 later I had the bare necessities that I needed to get through the next three days. Thanks to the wonder of one-stop shopping, I found a couple of maternity shirts, basic toiletries and make-up, and some new vitamins.

(And a cute pair of black flats. For my emotional well-being.)

I felt much better, but it still felt so weird to not have my things with me. I didn’t realize how much I love and depend on the regularity and familiarity of my morning and evening routines. It felt a bit like I was camping… but even when I camp I take everything with me. haha!

All in all, it turned out to be a great weekend. My hair wasn’t straight and my eyes burned from wearing my contacts too much, but it really made me grateful for what I did have: a husband who held me and loved me through my no clothes induced sob-fest, a thoughtful sister who just happened to leave a bag of maternity pants at my mom’s house for me, a loving mother who offered me anything and everything I needed, and for Walmart and its one-stop shopping glory to give me everything else I needed to survive the weekend.

I think I’m pretty lucky. :)

Oh, and when we finally made it home on Monday afternoon my perfectly packed bag was sitting waiting for me on the bottom step of our landing in the hallway. The Hubster had taken everything from the hallway out to the truck, but hadn’t checked the stairs.

And here’s the kicker: as I was locking the door to leave on Friday, we realized that we forgot to grab a white collared shirt for the Hubs. He went out to start the truck while I ran upstairs to grab it…

…right past my bag.

*face palm*