Saturday, October 20, 2012

object permanence





A small white seal sits on my desk, a knockoff from the era of animals stuffed with tiny, tiny pellets of I don't know what. It was Slater's favorite and I asked him if he wanted to take it to college. No, he said but me, I couldn't give it up.

It was something he loved and one of those things we pack after fifteen years in the same place. what was junk? what was permanent?





Hobbies came and went. There is still a scout shirt around here. Then there's the box, the box of course. The one I refuse to open. It contains the Whale Tales diploma meaning he graduated from a swim class when he was just a baby. A photo of him and his Dad, the one he took at school with Nan and Paw. Tom is in there, a peace sign patch from that decade party. The group of friends he had when he was just six years old. Seth, a letter from Shelby. A gold medal, a button in black and white telling, Ask me if I care?




They almost seem more precious here 'cause they made it.







Today I am so very grateful for who and what made it.







2 comments:

Chantel said...

I have a box like that for my boys....and one from when I was in highschool too. It has an empty cigarette carton from my best friend who gave up smoking years later, a stip of black and white pics taken in a booth, shells from a beach trip, a candybar wrapper...

She lives in Florida now, so far away. I'll never throw it away.

That seal is adorable...

Shea Goff said...

Good stuff.

Just between us. I've got a ticket stub to a London concert of the George Michael Faith tour. Summer 0f '88. My mom put Kim and me on a train, we found our way on the tube, had martinis with lemon, thought we were being chased and yes, I screamed when George Michael sang Play that Funky Music White Boy.

I can't say I'm proud of that, just that it makes me smile every time I think about it.

we all need a box maybe.