What do you do when your role in the healthcare environment is underutilized during COVID, yet you continue to show up to work every day? Naturally, you seek a sense of purpose—something meaningful to direct your efforts that can still make a difference for others. In the weeks leading up to the pandemic, I began helping with the task of returning lost belongings left behind by patients. The unexpected downtime provided me a unique opportunity to dedicate myself to this project.
As I started to dig deeper, I stumbled upon a storage area filled with 365 sealed bags of belongings, some dating back over 12 years. While I recognized that no one else had the time or research skills I was known for, I felt both embarrassed and disturbed by the sheer volume of items. Disposing of many things—like cigarettes, lighters, paperwork, sunglasses, and old dentures—was straightforward, but I encountered numerous bags containing jewelry that likely held significant emotional value for their owners or families.
Two specific bags stand out vividly in my memory. The first contained a simple gold band. After conducting some research, I discovered that the patient had passed away. Her obituary mentioned her husband and several relatives. After hours of searching, I learned that their house had been sold, and her husband was nowhere to be found. Eventually, I reached out to her son, who lived out of state. I could feel his emotions through the phoneline. It turned out that the ring was his mother’s wedding band—given to her by his father 50 years earlier. Tragically, his father had also passed away. I promised to send the ring to him via FedEx the following Monday.
The next day, as I continued to sort through more bags, I came across a familiar name. Upon opening it, a plain gold band rolled out onto the table. I quickly realized it was the matching band to the one I had discovered just the day before. The son was immensely relieved to learn that his parents’ wedding bands would finally be reunited after all these years.