BOXES....

It's amazing how we collect so many things in our life. Some things are ever so tiny and some huge. Everytime we travel to a new home, we carefully take these precious items along with us. I have done this all my life. I guarded them from chips and cracks yet never realized that these little memories meant nothing to others. They accumulated money value ,in some cases, but nothing huge. So find the right boxes and mark the outside with instructions as to who it should go to and start the filling.

For me it was possibly silly things. A granddaughters favorite baby shoes or a small vase my great-grandmother painted. One by one they make their way to the boxes.The odd part is, I have carried some of these with me for sixty five years or more and they are in better shape than me.....no nicks chips or cracks. I am hoping that someday my grandchildren feel that special tingle in their fingers when they touch something so very old and are able to let it tell it's story for the next hundred years.
Here I am learning what it is to be OLD. My kids generation have to much to do to listen to a silly old ladys jabber and carrying on. My grandkids know I feel they have a lack of needed respect for someone who has been through so much but I do realize that many of those things are no longer important in this world.Unless you are a history major, things I might want to tell you are not important in any way.
Where does love fit into the scheme of these things? What box do you open at thirty and know love will pour out? Will you understand how much just holding that pair of shoes made me smile and sometimes cry? When I finally am put in a box with instructions on the side, will that be a precious moment or mean nothing? If the world is still here in seventy years, will someone remember me with good thoughts and remember me well enough to say,"but gramma said"....and look in those boxes and smile? Just remember at whatever year those boxes are opened, this crazy lady loved you one and all......love always Pokie