There is an old Bread song where lead singer David Gates poses the question, “If a picture paints a thousand words, then why can’t I paint you?” which is how I feel when I write this blog at times. Would posting a picture convey what I’m talking about more than my attempts at writing? On occasion, I believe that’s the case. But not today….
Every few years or so, we rent a dumpster to get clear out some of the larger amounts of clutter we’ve accumulated over the years. Usually when this happens, we also decide which clothes from the last twenty years we are willing to give to charity. This year’s clear/clean out took place in November, when we needed to clear out attic space in order to allow new furnace lines to reach our upstairs bedroom-for the first time ever. As we were going through all the old plastic containers, determining what to keep and what to donate to charity my husband came across a little electronic nick knack from the boy’s second Christmas. A small photo frame, with a picture from his first Christmas, that when you pressed a button his tiny boy’s voice came on and said, “Merwwy Chwistmas Momma, I wuv you!”. As you might imagine, I kept hitting that button over and over again, listening to the little voice that belongs to my now big, giant of a son; trying not to cry because the years spun by so fast. “Where did you find this?” I asked. “Upstairs…in a box” My husband replied. I quickly made a copy of his voice with my Ipod, for fear the frame’s battery would die, then asked my husband to hide it again-for a future surprise; A time capsule, a memory, a reminder from days gone by.
“Doll today is your brother’s birthday…” I said this morning as I plugged in the crockpot. “Today is bubba’s brithday?” she asked. “Yes. Be nice to him.” I suggested. “Hmm, I didn’t get him anything…” she thought for a moment before flippantly saying, “Oh well” and moved on. “You don’t have to “get” him anything, just give him a hug…that will be enough” I replied. (The boy loves hugs-to give them, to get them-to smother you with them….so much that his sister will say when he walks into a room “No hugs, NO HUGS!” much to his dismay). “UGHHHH” she replied as her knees bent forward in buckling fashion as she pretended she were being shot. “Doll, it won’t kill you and he’ll think its a mighty fine birthday present. Also, you could make him bday card during recess…” I offered, opening my Ipod photo file to show her the one she gave him last year. Rolling her eyes she said, “Like that’s true now…” smirking, as left for school.
15…dear God, where did the time go?