This is what happens. You put it away for a little while, and now and again you look into the closet for something else and you remember, and you think, ‘soon’. Then it becomes something that is just there, in the closet, and other things get crowded in front of it and on top of it and finally you don’t think about it at all.
The thing that was your bright treasure. You don’t think about it. A loss you could not contemplate at one time, and now it becomes something you can barely remember.
That is what happens.
Alice Munro in Runaway: stories