I’m in an odd head space right now.
There are a lot of reasons for it, none of which are terribly important.
But the fact of the matter is that this head space of mine…
It’s kind of like an antique attic, its nooks and crannies filled with memories long forgotten… Until a ray of dust-streaked sunlight touches upon one that draws you in, enticing you to re-examine it like a letter from a long-lost relative…
And so you open that letter, and suddenly its seemingly innocuous contents are anything but… And instantly, an event that took place 25 years ago unfolds, with distinct clarity, upon the tablets of your memory… And though it happened a quarter century ago, and created only short term confusion for the child you once were… You now relive the incident as though it happened yesterday, but can comprehend its implications through the eyes of an adult…
And another mislaid piece to the puzzle of You has been found.
But, like the brittle stationery of the aged letter that revealed this secret, the puzzle piece you’ve found is as frail as the emotions it has unearthed…
And to snap it in place would snap it in two.
I like this visualization of the odd space you’re in right now. Thanks for sharing, Feve.
This attic of mine…
It’s kind of a nostalgic place; usually happy, occasionally poignant, often…
Dusty. Lol.
So I’m stuck somewhere between Damn, I need to scrub this place clean and Aaaaah-CHOO! o_O
I think it’s been more than 15 years since I had this dream, but it used to really bug me. The dream was that I would wake up and it would still be 1985, I would still be in the Army, and all the intervening years were simply a very detailed dream. A very disconcerting dream to be sure. I do like having a letter or book or whatever from a long dead relative. It’s kind of like them touching you from beyond the grave. A friend of mine was perusing garage sales one time and he found a textbook on healthy living that was written in the 30’s. It had a kids name on the inside cover, the same last name as me, so he bought it {for a quarter}. As soon as I saw the name I recognized it right away. It was my Uncle Donny. Donny died in 1980, Doug found the book in 1990. I gave him a quarter for it. In some ways I’m like a hoarder. If I know the history of something, I like to make sure that the person who gets it appreciates that history. I suspect other relatives have felt that way too, and that’s how I ended up with so much junk. A case in point would be my mom’s sewing machine. Looking up the serial number told me that it was pre 1900. That didn’t surprise me because my mom’s uncle had used it for his leather business. My mom’s dad and uncle were kind of old when they got married, but their brides weren’t. When I learned just how old it was I thought it might be valuable. Not really, well made stuff lasts a long time and just because something is old doesn’t mean it’s valuable. If I had money and time I’d probably open a museum.
I have recently acquired an old photograph album that once belonged to someone in my family. The question is… Who was this family member, exactly? And the photos themselves are of… Who? It’s a fascinating mystery to try to solve. The album itself is from 1892; the photos (the ones that are annotated) range in date from 1888 – 1897. I may never figure it out. But it’s fun to try. 🙂
A custom of that time period was to have your photo taken and then used as a postcard if you were traveling. A couple of photos of my great uncle were signed “Blondie” I had never heard him called that. Then again I don’t think many relatives know I go by Wild either. I have four mystery photos from my mom’s collection, two of them are a wedding circa 1940, another is a group of women of varying ages around a granite monument dedicated to the Rebekahs. I had to goog1e the group, and I still don’t know who’s in the group. I scanned it so I could enlarge and see more detail. Who makes a granite marker and doesn’t put a date on it?