My reading glasses, at least once per day

My sense of direction on the streets of Dublin

My way to the bathroom that night
in the dark hotel room

One chocolate-and-orange Smartwool sock
It reappeared the day after I tossed its mate

My balance on the ice

A half-full bottle of aspirin the next week
purchased for the pain of a broken wrist

The same contest one year later

My faith in neighbors to make the right choice

One dog, an uncle, my father-in-law, a grandniece

My ability to predict what might conjure tears

Any sense of proportion to match tears with events

My temper, with all gods who control