Friday, May 6th we ate at Subway and then took the kids to Home Depot to gather supplies for that weekend's worth of work on our master bathroom. When checking out at Home Depot I realized my wallet was gone. At first I didn't panic; it must have fallen out in the car, I thought. But it didn't.
Over the course of that weekend I called Subway 3 times, visited twice more and visited Home Depot twice to check and see if someone had found my wallet. They didn't.
We canceled the cards that were in my wallet immediately Friday night and on Monday I started the arduous process of replacing my IDs, insurance cards and the like. My driver's license had a different address on it so I contacted the residents of that address to let them know they might be receiving a package with my wallet in it. I wanted to believe people are good and the contents of my wallet weren't being used for deviant purposes, but he longer we moved away from May 6th, the more I thought I'd never see the wallet again and my faith in humanity dwindled.
Until yesterday. We ran some errands and returned home to find a post-it note on the front door; it read "I have your wallet" and it included his name and phone number. Could it be?!
I called him and learned the story of my wallet's last three weeks. His son had found my wallet and brought it home for his dad to find me. He mailed it to my old address and it was then returned to him so he resorted to the internet to see if I lived locally. All that information we have floating around the internet actually served some good!
He lives only a couple of blocks from us and handed me my completely intact wallet yesterday, 24 days after I mistakenly left it on a table at Subway. I held my hand out to shake his but truthfully, I wanted to hug him. He restored my faith in humanity.
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