Keepsakes

I read an interesting quote the other day, it went something like this--sometimes it's not the people we miss, but the memories.  That really struck home with me.  It made me stop and think.  I've had to move a lot and after living in 4 different states--I have discovered that I do miss the memories but I miss the people too.  I get so attached and then have to move away, left only with sweet memories.  Sometimes when my heart aches so much and I think I won't make it through the day I find myself looking through my many photo albums.  I pour through my books and also sit staring at the nearly 25,000 pictures on my laptop.  Yes, I said 25,000.   Many times those photos are all I have left--just pictures and memories.

I don't have a lot of keepsakes though, not really.  I've moved so much through the years that over time things have been either given away or donated to charity, but I do tend to be very sentimental.  I am not however, a packrat.  No, I am a certified thrower-awayer.  That's what my husband calls me.  I hate clutter, so I am constantly de-cluttering.  I throw away, and then, I throw away some more.  I like things neat and tidy--things might get a little dusty or need a quick vacuuming but most likely you won't find too many messy areas in my house.  It's just the way I am.  Therefore, I do not keep too many things--just a few very sentimental ones.  I usually manage to keep my little mementos for a few years and then it's either off to one of the kid's houses or to Good Will.  I always think someone else will benefit from my little treasures.  What can I say--I'm a giver.  This is said with a smile!

There are a couple of items though, yes, one or two that I can tell you about--one is a little tiny black Indian arrowhead.  It is one of my more valuable treasures.  I will never give it away.  I was 17 years old when I received it from a little boy who lived on an Indian reservation.  I went to help out and work with children the summer before my senior year of high school.  That year my life was changed forever, it's where I met and fell in love with my husband.  That particular Indian reservation will always hold a special place in my heart.  Anyway, we were both attending a camp where we were working with kids when I met a certain little boy, he was around 5 or 6 years old.  We became fast friends and soon we were inseparable--he followed me everywhere.  At the end of that week, he presented me with a little gift--it was the arrowhead.  I cried a little, he hugged me tight and I never saw him again.  I went back the next year, but he was nowhere to be found.  40 years later that little arrowhead still rests in my jewelry box.  I look at it often and remember that cute little boy.  I wonder sometimes if he ever thinks of me.

Another one of my prized possessions is something my husband found for me when we were still dating.  We were walking along a beach in northern California when he spotted something on the sand.  He bends down to pick it up and then handed it to me.  It was a perfect little sand-dollar the size of a dime.  I still have it, it's laying next to my arrowhead.  Two precious little memories tucked away just for me.  I thought I should mention them since they are of great value to me.

I know it seems a little silly that after all these years I still have those two little gifts, probably worth nothing to some but worth everything to me.  I would part with almost any other earthly possession before parting with one of those two items.  I guess I am even more sentimental than I thought.  I realize the older I get that some things can easily be replaced, while others--those attached to memories, can't.  These are my memories though, I'm sure that when I pass on and my kids or grandchildren are going through my things, they'll wonder--why did she keep this, or why was that so important to her?  That's why writing all this down is helpful to me.  The writing keeps those memories alive.  At least for me.

I have so many memories now to write about--well over 50 years of them, all tucked away until now.  Until the writing began.  Now, they are tumbling out--sometimes fast, and sometimes slowly.  Funny how it works that way.  I wonder why some come to mind quicker than others?  And why do I have to wait ever so patiently for others to surface?  It's interesting to me--I ponder those questions often.  My memories now, along with this blog have become my keepsakes.  As each little story or thought or memory surface, I write about it.  Each and every one.  They are my keepsakes now, sweet memories along with a few little treasures mixed in just to keep things interesting.

My tiny arrowhead and sand-dollar