I remembered seeing these treasures years ago when I had the responsibility of disassembling my parents’ home. Talk about a difficult job for someone who has saved every little thing my children have made or given to me. I digress…
Some of these treasures made even me wonder why? Luckily someone has labeled these items with tags explaining their origin. One small, flat, round, black thing really pulled my attention. What on earth was it and why was it kept? It was an heirloom watch that was burned in a fire. As a writer this intrigued me. It belonged to my great, grandmother, but why did she keep it when it was obviously not something that could be used again? I’m thinking there might be a story there.
I found a clip of my grandmother’s hair when she was a baby and it was the same color as my baby hair. I loved that it was proof I take after her because she was a jewel among people. She was not very tall in stature but because everyone loved her she was very tall to me. She could walk under my hubby’s arm if he held it out to his side. The first time he saw her she was playing two slot machines at Lake Tahoe. I think she fell in love with Ken the moment she saw him. He was always her big hunk. Now, do you see where I get it? Gotta love those hunks!
Keys of all shapes, sizes and styles were on rings. A leather tobacco pouch had treasures my grandpa found on the family ranch when he was a child. There was a note written in my great grandmother’s hand. When I read through it, I could have felt guilty. She was the person I based my bad sister in my first two stories on. No guilt there, though. She asked my mother when I was four why I was such an ugly child. Little girls never forget things like that. Sweet revenge!
I think from now on when I get stuck plotting a new story that I might open up that box of treasures and see what else I can learn. Somewhere I have saved two letters that my grandpa’s mother sent to my grandmother when she married grandpa. The woman was a possessive mom and actually told my grandmother to send him back when she was through with him. I don’t know where those letters are at the moment, but know for sure there must be a story in them. I will find them again someday when I find that “safe” place.
My daughter says she tosses things, doesn’t believe in saving . My poor heart nearly exploded with fear. What is going to happen to all my treasures? I think I’ll go dust and admire them all now that I am done sharing.