It may never be an episode of Dateline or 48 Hours. (I doubt it would even make it on the ID network.) But to me, it is a mystery I need solved. I suspect it never will be—that is, unless you, dear reader, know something, anything, that can help.
It all started when my siblings and I were getting our mom’s house ready for sale. She had a love for decorative lawn ornaments, things like rabbits, angels and a few religious ones like the Virgin Mary. She did not, however, have any gnomes, which are my favorite. After a long day packing at the house, I mentioned the house really needed a gnome. I realized the gnome would have a short life at my mom’s, but once the place sold, I could reclaim it. I guess I was feeling sentimental about wanting to hold onto something from my family’s home—or I could just admit I was being a smart ass because I wanted a particular kind of gnome, one that was flipping the bird. No, not holding a bird, but making an obscene gesture. My siblings laughed, said ‘good luck,’ and if I did find one, they said to put it by the back door so every time people walked into the house … well, you get the drift.
Thanks to Amazon, two days later I had the gnome. I drove over to my mother’s house and placed it facing the back door, right next to where we hid the spare key. I knew its days were numbered because I figured the real estate agent would take one look at it and say, ‘That has to go.’ But with all six of us in and out of the house, it had the potential to be a funny joke among us. Teresa, who stopped by on a regular basis, started moving the gnome around the garden, kind of like, ‘Where’s Waldo?’ So everyone looked for the gnome and got a chuckle. Until the gnome disappeared.
At first, I was not overly concerned. I expected to receive a picture of the gnome with a ransom note attached. I looked all over for it. I talked to (interrogated) my siblings to see if they took him. But having been the brunt of numerous jokes my entire life, I could tell that none of them was responsible. Someone outside the family had taken the gnome!
I felt some hope when I saw that a metal dog stolen from the Venice Café was returned after a public plea. Someone’s uncle (who may or may not have had a shady past) gifted the contraband, but once the recipient realized where it came from, they returned it. My mom’s house now has been sold, so the gnome cannot be returned to its original location. So if you have information as to the whereabouts of the gnome, please email me. We can determine a safe drop-off site. No questions asked.
Each day I look for a postcard from the little guy saying he is having fun in the Bahamas but is now ready to spend the summer with me. He’s not just any gnome to me. Every time I look at him (yes, I have a picture of him on my phone), I think of how a group of siblings got through a tough time while still making each other laugh. Phone home, gnome!
Contact Patty at phannum@townandstyle.com.
