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Viewing 154 - 155 out of 155 Blogs.
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I know many of us have seen this one before, but with all the e-mails I am still receiving with warnings and promises connected to sending it on, well, I thought this might serve as a small reminder, and it's funny!
Soapbox
I lovingly handed my 31year old son the sheets of paper I’d found while going through things in my garage in an attempt to someday be able to put a car in there. “I found these in the garage,†I said. “They’re drawings you made of hills and rainbows.†He looked at them, his girlfriend peering over his shoulder. “Looks like I didn’t know how to write my name,†he said. “I missed a letter.â€Â
After our family get-together was over and everyone had gone home, there sat those scraps of paper, still in my possession. Did I expect he’d take them home, cherishing them as much as I do, bits of him when he was small? Not realistic, I guess. Shall I throw them out and, in doing so, feel I’ve devaluated what he meant to me back then, and still does?
Ones children never quite realize that so much of what one saves over the years represents sweet and sometimes bittersweet times of ones life, tangible pieces of love, sorrow, joy-filled moments and difficulties. Like the box of years’ worth of greeting cards received, packed away in the basement, each one with penned sentiments, some in child-like scrawl, of love, appreciation and wishes for happiness and blessings, will anyone know or care of the value my “mess†holds when I can no longer be its guardian?
My car, forlornly parked at the curb instead of safely in the garage, has been hit now three times while sitting there. I swear I’ll whittle down this “mess†before I die so that my children will send me off with tears of sorrow and joy at my home going and not frustration and resentment at the monstrous task left to them.
I know I’m not the only one with what has now been classified as a “behavior†and, in extreme cases, a disorder. Hm, who said I had to “behave†and when did life ever have that much “order†about it? Maybe I’m just trying to keep together, held close to my heart, things, people, memories that time seems to want to pull from my physical, mental and emotional embrace.
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