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On my fridge I have this jean pocket with magnets on the back of it. It's a really cute idea that a friend gave me as a going away gift when we moved here. The pocket is, obviously, supposed to be used for those little things you need to keep track of.

My pocket was a little over stuffed so I decided to clean it out. Out came the pens and the random scraps of paper. Out came a gift card I didn't know I had (score! $10 to spend at Wal-Mart) and the small pile of library 'book bucks' Vicbowin has been saving up.

I was a little surprised at how much was stuffed into the thing, thinking how ridiculous it was to save junk.

Then way down in the very bottom of the pocket I found a memory.

It was only a small one, a tiny blip in the life of a sweet, gentle little girl, but it was a memory that made me smile... even four years later.

The memory comes in the shape of a tiny image printed onto a piece of paper and taped on both sides in an attempt to protect it from water. I have no idea where or when it first made it's way into our home but it looks something like this:

It's a memory surrounded by the heat of an Arizona sun and the big brown eyes of a four year old girl coming to me full of concern.

"Mommy," Vicbowin says, eyes brimming with sorrow, "this is so sad."

"What is, Love?" I ask half listening.

She hands me the piece of paper that she can't read yet. "This kitty thinks she's a lion."

That's all there is. Just one sweet moment.

I stood there this morning holding that little piece of paper, a slip no larger than my thumb, and I wondered at it still being with us. I was amazed it had survived two moves that stretched nearly half the country. Yet there it was a quiet reminder of my first born child and her kindness.

I turned around and stuck it up on the fridge, out where I could see it during the day. No wonder it's so easy to horde things, when memories can attach themselves to the smallest of objects.


Christine said…
Your post made me think of my girlfriend who's father owned a jeans shop when we were growing up. Her father made her the coolest purse out of a pair of jeans. As an adult I have seen those mass produced and sold but none have ever looked nearly as good as the one made for my friend 30 years ago.
Cari Hislop said…
What a lovely memory! It's true, memories attatch themselves to the most insignificant things...and yet sometimes we keep things and loose the memory. I've gone through boxes of "treasures" only to throw most of them away because I couldn't remember. That was disconcerting.

I wanted to thank you for your kind wishes for my aching teeth. They're still sore, but feeling better. I hope your teeth are being kind to you!!!!
Evelyn Perkins said…
beautifully written cannwin

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