Glitch Log #24: The Mystery of the Missing Passport

In which a day time stroll in a nightie reunites a lady with her missing passport.

One morning my next door neighbour knocked on my door with a passport in his hand. He said it had just come through his letter box, addressed to his house but the passport wasn’t his and he didn’t know the person it identified. He showed me the persons name and picture, she was called Anne. I said I was sorry, I couldn’t help because I didn’t know that person either.

Later that same morning, I was outside when I noticed that my neighbour (from the house on the otherside) was wandering down the road in her nightdress. She was very elderly and had dementia. I didn’t know her well but I knew that when left alone she did tend to do peculiar things (she’d called the police on me – A burgalar in the loft – on more than one occasion). At the same time that I spotted her wandering in the street, another lady also spotted her. Together we coaxed and guided my neighbour back to the pavement but she refused to go inside because she was trying to visit her son, Les. He used to live down the road but had moved to another town years ago. She wouldn’t go back into her house until she’d visited Les. We didn’t know what to do with her, she was very stubborn, so we called the emergency services. Fortunately they were familiar with her case, her calls and her wanderings, and they agreed to send someone to help. While we waited with my neighbour, all of us perched on my garden wall, we got to talking. The lady who helped me told me her name, her full name. I gasped in surprise.

‘Are you missing your passport?’ I said.

‘Well, I am waiting for it to arrive, we’re going away. I hope it arrives soon’.

‘I know where it is!’ I exclaimed.

When the police community support officer finally turned up to look after the old lady and get in touch with her family, I took Anne back to my other neighbour. We knocked on the door.

‘In a very weird coincidence, I’ve found the owner of the passport!

Turns out the postal address was missing a digit. Needless to say Anne was very pleased to be reunited with her passport. I wonder how she would have got it back if it hadn’t been for an old lady wandering in her nightie, and a pair of spontaneous impulses to show care and kindness to a stranger?

‘Til next time, keep your eyes peeled for those glitches!

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Love,