The way to love someone
is to lightly run your finger over that person's soul
until you find a crack,
and then gently pour your love into that crack.
~Keith Miller

Friday, January 6, 2017

treasure boxes

While some of the kids were still here I began to feel uncharacteristically grouchy - turned out I was getting sick.  It's the severe cough and cold type of sick - manageable with rest and fluids.  I have time to lounge around waiting for feeling great to return.  I told my husband that in a weird sort of way not feeling great is okay because it reminds me that I usually take good health for granted.  I'm also hoping that all this coughing counts towards the abs of steel workout.

And boy is it cold around here!  The new pup's house training schedule is getting me outside whether I want to or not.  Burr-ry!  I could feel tiny ice crystals popping against my legs this morning!  It's so hard not to rush his business!

I contacted Tommy's wife's adult daughter about figuring out a way to get some of Tommy's things to me.  He was the custodian of many of out family "treasures", pictures mostly, mementos ... junk to any one else.  I told her that her mom had chosen not to communicate with me, but that I did care to have some of the things as her mother became ready to clear them out.  Those two green ammo boxes were always stored under my brother's beds.  I don't remember a time when they weren't under their beds once Tommy graduated from his crib.  After Tommy's house was robbed several years ago he sent me several trinkets from these boxes for save keeping. I am happy to be able to return them to where they best belong.

That other box is from our Dad's workshop.  It's good to have that old box of Daddy's.  It would be great to have some of his tools, but those are probably mixed in with Tommy's things and lost to me now.  It never occurred to me to "legally clarify" where things might go while Tommy was still here to make his wishes known and ... honestly, it doesn't matter much at all.  I am happy to have what was sent over.  The old family dictionary ... the binding is loose with wear and the pages wobble ... I'm the only one who knows that our Dad had us looking up words for ourselves when we still needed a step up to get to where that dictionary stayed.  He taught me to keep a card in my borrowed books, or write on the back inside cover if the book was mine, any word I wasn't 100% sure of it's meaning ... and look them up.  A lot of my old books have definitions written in the back.

One of those boxes holds a small book - Tarzan - and a fork from my momma's silverware drawer. There is a worn pool cue chalk ... we all considered ourselves destined for sharky greatness.

I asked for a little bedside table which the daughter said would come later.  Hoping.

No comments: