When one moves, it forces you to open, sort through and re-pack memories. “Mom”, says one teenage son, “Look at this!” running towards me with a Valentine’s card obviously made from small hands telling his mama that he loves her. Another box opened, “My baby blanket!” I move the silk through my fingers thinking about the comfort this blanket gave me as a little child and trying to capture for just a moment the feeling of security and protection this blanket represented so many years ago.
The stacks of various greeting cards from those who love(d) me. An un-cashed check from my mother inside of a birthday card, addressed to Patricia Jane with the request that I buy myself something special. Ah, the music box! Winding it up, I hear “Wind Beneath My Wings” and I smile.
I saw, I touched and I heard the precious memories of seasons past. And then, I breathed in the familiar, sweet smell. I carefully picked up the jackets that I had given my mother and recently brought home from her closet, brought them to my face and breathed in the scent still remaining. The familiar scent brought tears to my eyes as I closed them, envisioning Mama with all of my senses committed to memory. And then I hung them in my closet and shut the door. Over the course of this week, I have taken them back out, bringing them up close to once again breathe in her sweet memory and somehow become close to her once again.
I am saddened as I know the scent will fade away with the seasons.
Seasons continue on…. Fall is here. The trees are becoming glorious in their spectacular color. Then they will fall to the ground and become the earth. The seasons will continue until the trees become alive with new birth, new life once again. The promise of Spring! The promise of Life! The old becomes new again.
"Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning." Psalm 30:5
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