I know that I have some white lace. I think it's in the attic and decide to look up there. Switching on the light, I am confronted by stark and brutal reality. I am a hoarder! I see the gilded vase that I got in a garage sale. A miniature figurine barn set that I won in an office raffle. And I also see the white wedding gown that was a friend gave me because it was too bulky to carry with her across the country, she was divorced and our people did not marry in gowns. I look through a chest- self made from a carpentry class that I thought would become a hobby. Thank God it did not.
And then beside the chest I notice boxes. With names of both my children. Toys. My youngest one moved out 5 years ago. It's been a quiet house with regular people, no hormonal tantrums, no impassioned speeches about downtrodden rights, no midnight sneaking to friends' house.
I open it. Toys are wrapped in no particular order. Action figures hug Barbie dolls. Plush toys with Raggedy Ann dolls. Boxes of jigsaw puzzles that have peeled and torn from constant and nonchalant usage.Lots of teapots and cups and saucers. I also see a couple of real silver forks and a pizza cutter. I spy a stethoscope. I plug it in my ears and hear my heart.
The foremost beat of a mother's heart. Steady and yet constantly aflutter. My babies went through a phase where all they could do was wait for the next day to start so that they could play with these toys again. Now they are too busy in their lives, thinking of the work next day. Their life has consumed them and I often hear them muttering about their life plan going to the dogs.
I put the stethoscope back. I gently touch the toys in a sweep. And I close the box.
And then beside the chest I notice boxes. With names of both my children. Toys. My youngest one moved out 5 years ago. It's been a quiet house with regular people, no hormonal tantrums, no impassioned speeches about downtrodden rights, no midnight sneaking to friends' house.
I open it. Toys are wrapped in no particular order. Action figures hug Barbie dolls. Plush toys with Raggedy Ann dolls. Boxes of jigsaw puzzles that have peeled and torn from constant and nonchalant usage.Lots of teapots and cups and saucers. I also see a couple of real silver forks and a pizza cutter. I spy a stethoscope. I plug it in my ears and hear my heart.
The foremost beat of a mother's heart. Steady and yet constantly aflutter. My babies went through a phase where all they could do was wait for the next day to start so that they could play with these toys again. Now they are too busy in their lives, thinking of the work next day. Their life has consumed them and I often hear them muttering about their life plan going to the dogs.
I put the stethoscope back. I gently touch the toys in a sweep. And I close the box.
BEAUTIFUL post.i love it.
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