more writing lost then found

post-it for future essay, so glad that I found this and am wondering if it counts as found if you never remember losing it (or writing it). 

THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF BEING
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My mom collected books. But unlike most book enthusiasts she didn’t believe in bookshelves, in exhibiting the bounty of her obsession, instead she hid books in closets and under tables. She stacked them under beds, stacked them even under precarious furniture creations (her other obsession being interior design). And while so many went unread, occasionally they would creep out from their stowed away places, or I would form an image of them pieced together stowed in my subconscious, pieced from grabbing my coat from the closet so many times. Or I would find them while unpacking winter sweaters (exchanging them for summer shorts and tank tops). Their contents remain unknown, but the titles run across my memory as if etched there in secret. This one especially.