It sounds a bit too sentimental to ramble about a lost plastic card, be it the metro pass, a credit card, or an identity card, considering the loss is minimal.
A loss is nonetheless considered loss.
I still remember the time I lost my university student ID card close to the end of semester of my second year. It was an eventful year, and that was a pivotal turning point when I could no longer recover my student ID. Goodbye my starry-eyed, ballerina-bunned portrait. Hello a more steadfast gaze and a head of wavy hair.
Another time I received a call alerting me of a possible credit card fraud and the promise of a new card. Loss is non-exisitent, thanks to the swift action of the issuer, if only a bit too paranoic. I had to but shift from the Visa system to the Master system. The difference is rather little, apart from my fickle label-loyalty.
The first time I lost my Octopus card*, the first time I tested the power of a personal transport pass with a name and a photo attached to its back. I was thankful to that because it was with this very clue how an amazingly kind-hearted, righteous do-gooder returned my whole wallet full of other plastics and papers to me.
The second time I lost my Octopus card, I was still a student, but the third time I lost it, I had graduated and I hated to have this “student identity” deceiving my way through, although on my re-issued card still stamped my 14-year-old groggy-eyes.
This umpteenth time, I lost my Octopus card, %&^@#! At least I get to remove the decade-old picture.
While I cherish the convenience and assurance of having all the trusty plastics with me, I am also thankful to all their losses, so that I could recover, and catch up with my pace.
* Octopus card is the Hong Kong equivalent of Myki card in Melbourne, Oyster card in London, Suica card in Fukuoka, and T-money card in Seoul.