I have made this decision to spend a bit of time each week end going through something – like a drawer or a closet – nothing overly ambitious. This Saturday I chose a shelf in the laundry room – not the whole room now, just a shelf. Anyway, on that shelf sits two containers – one has all of my framing artsy stuff in it – picture hangers, wire etc. and the “other” has all kinds of household helpers – hammers, screw drivers, tacks, tape, etc. Within the bowels of the “other” I found something of long ago – kite strings and electric outlet covers. I immediately got redirected to some March a long long time ago, or was it just yesterday, when paper kites and little boys were running in the field near our house trying to catch the wind. And plastic outlet covers I bought by the pack were in all of the sockets for all of the years of diapers and curious little hands.
It was a sudden and unexpected journey back in time that transformed my day and prompted me to just write about it. I was able to complete my small sorting task, my shabby attempt at organization but I drifted in and out of nostalgia throughout the day. I thought a lot about time and how mystical it is – it’s here and then it’s gone and then even then it’s still here, isn’t it? I could touch those moments I could easily remember the bit of fear I had and urgency to cover up all of the sockets and I could remember the beauty of the wind lifting the kites that caused the happiness – it was all right there but then I looked at the relics and they were here but very old and tired looking – they were from a yesterday of long ago and no longer had purpose.