Several years ago, I was outside shoveling (no, really, I was). I beat X home from work, and didn't have much choice, since I couldn't get the car in the driveway. Too lazy to go upstairs and change, I put on a pair of gloves and boots from the garage and started on the snow. The gloves were his, so they didn't fit well. But they did keep my hands warm.
Later that night, I realized that my ruby ring was missing. I searched everywhere, but couldn't find it in the house. I knew I'd worn it to work that day because I wore it everyday - it was a ruby heart that X had surprised me with for my birthday a couple years before, on a trip to Cape Cod.
I came to the conclusion that I'd probably lost it outside, while shoveling. A couple of times, I'd removed the gloves to give my hands a rest. My fingers had probably shrunk a bit, being so warm, and I bet the ring had come right off and fallen into the snow. Obviously, I was devastated. How could I lose something so precious? I should have been more careful.
Months later, after all the snow had melted, I was outside doing some project in the front yard. I was standing at the foot of the steps, and something shiny caught my eye. It was stuck in the seam of the concrete, so I bent down to take a look. There, on the steps, was my ring. In perfect condition, as though it had just fallen off my hand that second.
I still have the ring, although it obviously means something different to me now. While I no longer wear it everyday, it is a constant reminder that no matter how lost something might seem, in the end, it'll find its way back. Usually, that happens when you stop looking.
If that can happen with a ring buried in the snow, I should think it works the same with people gone from your life, your happiness, or even love. If you lose them, eventually, maybe when you least expect it - there they are again.