I had another one last night. Every time I remember a dream, I try to write it here. I don't remember them very often, and I imagine it has something to do with my sleep pattern (or lack thereof.)
I was over at my uncles house. My aunt was at work, as usual. I sometimes stop in to see how they are doing, and we usually end up talking computers. He will "discover" something really cool, and show it to me. (like changing color on the font in an email, etc.) Anyway, on this particular day, we were sitting and talking. He got up, left the room, and came back with a walmart sack. Seeing as how Walmart is so popular around here, you see those bags about everywhere, for every purpose. I use them at Christmas sometimes for packing material for presents. Anyway, on with the dream.... he walks in and hands me the bag. He is smiling really big and has a glimmer in his eye. Now, as far as my uncle goes, he gets excited over things that a lot of people don't. For instance, the glimmer stays the same whether its a dirty joke, or the latest craft deal they bought off of QVC. The boyish smile reminds me of the younger uncle who was healthy but scary. He has mellowed a lot, for which I thank God for. I am sure his family does too. Ok, anyway, he hands me the sack, and I wonder what he has got into now. I sit it on the table, pull away the sack, and inside are parts of my fond memories of my youth. I first take out my jewelry box I had as a little girl. The ballerina that twirls on her little spring is still intact, and spinning to Fur Elise. I loved that jewelry box. It had all my tacky little necklaces and rings. That was before I had my ears pierced, but I had a turquoise ring that belonged to my mother that was in there. When I looked, the ring was in there. Just like the day she gave it to me. Honestly, I don't remember if she really gave it to me, or if I took it after she passed away. If she didn't hand it to me, I am sure she would have, or did in spirit, anyway. There was nothing else in the box, except the ring and the once broken ballerina. The only other thing left in the sack was my mom's old sewing kit. I think every woman in the world had one. At least every woman I ever met had one. It had been years since I had seen it, but I remembered it right away. I opened it up, and touched the things she touched, I inhaled to see if I could breathe some of the air that she had once breathed. I picked through everything, trying to find something left of her. My uncle was talking about where he had gotten it, but I don't remember what he said. I just remember the awe I felt at touching something my mom had touched. Her fingerprints and memory are still on my heart, and sometimes I think I can still feel her arms around me. I know she watches over me and my son.
I don't know what ever really happened to the sewing kit and the jewelry box. I am guessing the trash or rummage sale. My stepmother is notorious for getting rid of stuff that she doesn't want. My mother passed away in 1970, on February 23rd. She was 34. I just noticed the date is only a few days away. My dad always remembers, but doesn't ever talk about it unless my stepmother isn't around. She is still jealous, after all these years.
God Bless, and hold your loved ones tight. Even the ones only in your memories.