when you return
don’t forget my house
Downsizing, selling our home, as it is now too large to manage. That was never given a thought when we built it, as we hoped it would be filled with the sound of running feet and children’s laughter. Today we have rearranged everything in a few cartons. We have given away, thrown away things – mementos of a life well lived, oh so long ago! From a set of garden tools and the lawn mower to the cookie cutters and coffee makers (did we really have six?). From the barbecue grill to heirloom silver candlesticks, books, sheet music, clothes, shoes, perfumes and on and on. I am ashamed of all that we owned, never needed and never used. I trace an old water ring mark on the antique brass carved coffee table, which was inherited from my grandfather, who had served in India.
I return from the Salvation Army with five cartons of toys and games, as they don’t accept them anymore. I donate them to the church’s yard sale along with two cartons of fairy Christmas lights. Before I do this, I hold close my Raggedy Ann doll and pull out the bag of marbles Zach and Sam had once played with. I take out two, one for each of them and admire their patterns. One has Leonid showers and the other the Aurora Borealis. These I will keep on my writing table and use instead of worry stones.
All we have for the new house is packed into the U-Haul and yet I run up to the gazebo overlooking the trees above the meandering silver stream below.
one last look –
the morning glories bloom
as never before