Once upon a time, when I was 14 which was many decades ago, my brother gave me a watering can for my birthday. I kept it through all my moves, college, 8 apartments, my first house, and finally to the home we live in now. Years of moving around and the watering can always moved with me. It lived in the cabinet below my kitchen sink.

These days I only have one plant, but it’s hard to water, because it’s years old and very dense. The long spout of my watering can helped me get water to the roots. I water it every Sunday.

Then, one Sunday I couldn’t find it. In fact there was nothing below the sink. We’d had to empty most of the cabinets to get some work done in the kitchen the week before. I didn’t know which box, out in the garage, held my watering can. I used a glass to water the plant, most of the water ran down the leaves to the floor.

When we put everything back into the cabinets in the kitchen I couldn’t find the watering can anywhere. I asked my husband if he had seen it. He looked stricken, and said maybe it had accidentally been thrown out. I was heartbroken. I continued to water the plant with a glass and wipe up the spilled water. I almost asked my brother for a new one for Christmas this year. But I didn’t want to tell him we had lost it.

And then the dishwasher broke.

While my husband was installing the new one, hoses connecting under the sink, the watering can appeared. Way in the back of the cupboard, hiding in plain sight, it had been there all the time. After almost six months of being lost, of me thinking about it every Sunday, it reappeared.

Yesterday I watered the plant and smiled as the thirsty roots grabbed every drop.