There are a lot of articles on the Internet and in the news media about men who can’t find a wife. I feel sorry for them.

I found a wonderful woman to be my wife. I’ve always loved her and when she agreed to marry me my mother urged me to have the ceremony as soon as possible before she came to her senses and ran for the hills.

Long engagements are risky for guys like me.

Our engagement was short, our wedding was beautiful. I remember it all like yesterday. We vowed to remain side by side for the rest of our lives.

And I’ve been losing her ever since.

I lose her at shopping malls, at restaurants, at church. I lose her at parties when I’m trying to stay close to her because I don’t know anyone.

Every Sunday morning after the worship service I lose her at church. She’s focused on people she needs to talk with, she has church business to do, missions to help the needy.

I’m focused on getting home to watch the NFL and the next thing you know I have no idea where she is.

So I stand by the front door with the other men who have lost their wives. All parts of a church have special names like chancel, nave, and narthex. This pace in the church is called the Maritus Lost quod Instituo. That’s Latin for Husband Lost and Found. It’s the place where wives can reclaim us.

Hopefully.

Me: “I don’t know what happened. My wife was right beside me and she was gone in an instant.”

Other man: “Just stand here. Eventually she has to leave and she’ll come here to the front door and get you.”

Me: “I’m very worried about it.”

Other man: “Don’t worry. She’s okay. She’s talking and when she’s ready to leave she’ll come here.”

Me: “I’m not worried about that. I’m worried if she takes too long I’ll miss the start of the Bears game. Why are you so sure your wife will come and get you?”

Other man: “I have the car keys.”

When we go to a crowded mall my wife weaves her way through the people. A lot of them are women and I can’t push ahead of them. The next thing I know I have no idea where my wife is.

Me text messaging: “Where r u?”

Wife: “I’m in the mall.”

Me: “I know you’re in the mall. Where in the mall?”

Wife: “Can’t you keep up with me?”

Usain Bolt, the Olympic gold medalist and fastest man on earth, couldn’t keep up with her in a shopping mall.

Wife: “I’m going into a store to buy some things we need. Where will you be when I’m done?”

Me: “You can pick me up at the husband lost and found place.”

I probably should have told her that’s the place where they sell those big, sticky cinnamon buns.

But after 32 years of being married to me, I think she already knows that.

John Norberg writes a weekly column for the Journal and Courier.

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