Filling a Memory Box

When I die, I'm going to come back as a squirrel.

That's right.

See, I have a habit of storing things away, tucking them into unexpected places, especially if those things bring back happy memories.

Yesterday, I was sorting through boxes of stuff, choosing items to give away, others to toss, and some to savor. These things (above) are definitely in my "To Keep" file. In fact, I think I'll give them a special box, a "Memory Box."

1. Upper left (clockwise) is a cute plastic hold-all pouch that my sister, Jane, gave me to remind me of my home on the beach.

2. Upper right (1 o'clock position) is a clothing brush that belonged to Grandma Marge. I don't recall her ever using it, but it reminds me of her anyway because of the whimsical face painted on the handle. By the way, this brush does come in handy for dusting off the shoulders of jackets that have been sitting too long in your closet.

3. Lower right (4 o'clock position) is a necklace given to me by Aunt Phyllis, a lovely and fashionable woman who lives on the Miracle Mile in Chicago. She and Uncle Manny always attended swanky events, so she thought a pretty bauble like this would be a good addition to my dressy wardrobe. And she was right!

4. Lower left (7 o'clock position) is a Chairman Mao watch that I bought in China. It tickles me that he was so very much against capitalism, and yet his image appears on this touristy trinket. When it works (which isn't often), Mao waves at you. This timepiece (ha!) both reminds me of a great trip and a piece of wisdom: Everything changes.

5. Right (9 o'clock position) is a pin, a magnolia painted on wood. I bought it in Charleston, SC. With it comes happy memories (and one sad one) of our times in that lovely city.

6. Middle of the grouping. Of all these possessions, this one means the most to me. My maternal grandmother, Constantia Funk, always carried her money in this plastic coin purse. When I look at this, I still see her bandaged fingers fumbling for change. As she aged, calcium deposits caused lumps on her fingertips. Bit by bit, as I stare at this purse, she comes back to life for me, almost the way a ghost materializes in a movie.

I challenge each of you to find a selection of tokens that revive happy memories--and put tuck them away in a Memory Box.

Everyday Is Mother's Day Memory Questions

(Clockwise from 12 o'clock position: me, Meg, Mom, and Jane.)

I'm a little late with this post because my plane didn't get in last night until after midnight. I flew from Miami to St. Louis after visiting with my mother and sisters, and I was pretty zonked!

People often compliment me by saying, "You are so creative." But really, I'm just one of the four creative women in my family. My mom was a classically trained ballerina, and she's always been a whiz at choreography and coming up with dance ideas. My younger sister Jane has done bead-work for earrings, runs her own blog (SleepCompass.com) and loves to decorate, and my youngest sister Meg is an art teacher at an elementary school, plus a font of all sorts of crafty ideas. Meg taught me to scrapbook. All of us are, in my humble opinion, amazing in our own ways, perhaps because whatever one of us doesn't think up the other surely will.

So Meg got this middle-of-the-night idea. She wrote out these questions for all of us to answer when we went to brunch on my final day in Florida:

Meg's Mother's Day Memory Questions

1. Using your 5 sense, what are some memories you recall from growing up:

* Touch

* Taste

* Smell

* Hearing

* Sight

2. Name 1 thing your mother taught you--

3. Name 1 thing you'd thank her for--

4. Name 1 thing you really appreciate that she did for you--

5. Write a quote your mother often says:

6. Describe a memorable event or trip:

Over brunch, we filled out the questionnaire. The answers led to many great memories, and lots of laughter. I asked Meg for a copy of all our responses, and she suggested I take some blanks home. I plan to have my son and my husband fill these out. Jane thought she should have her mother-in-law and daughter fill them out, too. I think it'll be a pretty interesting family map, defining continents of interests, seas of shared values, and mountains of memorable moments.

So, I'd like to hear what YOU think about the quiz. And whether you try it with your family.

P.S. As I flipped over the papers, while I was copying the questions for this blog, I discovered Meg's answer to "Name 1 thing you'd thank her (your mother) for--" and somehow, I'd forgotten or hadn't heard this over our meal. Meg's answer was, "My sisters."

The Place Where We Were a Family

This week the “For Sale” sign went up in our front yard. A small caveat, “Coming Soon!”, warned folks we aren’t quite ready for prime time and looky-lou’s. What a bittersweet time this is. My son is home from college, leaving half-empty bottles of Gatorade around the house, getting calls at all hours, and constantly asking what there is to eat. My husband is distracted by phone calls from real estate agents, vendors, music institutes, and would-be employees. My sisters phone me with news about my mother’s tests, indicating she has cancer of her lungs, and how we are in a holding pattern until the doctors test her (some more) to decide how to proceed. I sit for hours winnowing through boxes of old documents, speeches I wrote for the executives of Diamond-Star Motors, ad copy I created, ad campaigns and focus groups that I ran, and bits of books and articles which never went anywhere.

On Saturday, David and I finished cleaning our newly remodeled garage. First I photographed the growth chart we made with black marker on one wall. We used that space to note Michael’s first bubble with bubblegum, the one and only baseball game his team won, and finally, “College Bound” which we stopped the car to add the day we set off to take him to school. Grumbling, he agreed to be pulled from the backseat, to stand against the wall, and to be measured against other years’ growth.

The next occupants of this house will find a freshly re-done garage, now insulated, dry-walled and with a painted floor. Plus a new built-in set of shelves. But no growth chart.

And of course, our house will soon be nearly empty of clutter. We tossed enough stuff to fill our SUV twice with items to take to Goodwill. I rummaged through my son’s old Beanie Babies, his crib bumper, and a doll that belonged to my mother. Those things I kept.

When the garage was done, we moved to work in our basement. We have 4,200 feet of livable space, with a lower level walk-out. On this walk-out level are three rooms: my office, a spare bedroom/storage area, a big screen tv viewing room, plus a large open area that used to have a pingpong table, weight set, pool table and pinball game. I worked my way through old storage boxes, looking sadly at Michael’s fingerpainting efforts, his cards to me saying “Mom, I love you more than Dad does!” and photos of pet chameleons which never lived long. We found an old jewelry box that belonged to David’s mother. I insisted that rather than dump the contents we stop and take it to a jeweler. We did. Good thing. There was an old garnet pin inside, which easily could have been taken for costume jewelry. David also unearthed a beautiful strand of pearls, larger and creamier than the one he bought me years ago.

So far we’ve replaced our roof, added bigger gutters, painted the front door, tiled two areas formerly linoleum covered, cleaned the carpets, had paint dings fixed, replaced the old laundry sink I hated with a sink/cabinet combo. I took a break while writing this for David to pull three ticks off of me. Ticks I am sure found me yesterday while we were planting lemon yellow marigolds and red salvia around our mailbox. Or while I planted the window boxes that sit merrily on the banisters of our deck.

About the time I planned to take a break and write, the real estate agent called. She had a young couple who were driving around and asked to see our house. The couple has three kids. David, Michael and I played “beat the clock” finishing up getting the house presentable.

As the couple walked through, I had to restrain myself. I wanted to tell them, “You think this is just a house, but it isn’t. It’s a place where a happy family has lived. A place where we raised my son. Where we laughed and loved and played together. It could be happy for your family, too.”

But I didn’t.

Family! Celebrations!

I’ve just had the pleasure of picking my older son and daughter-in-law up at the airport for a very special occasion. My d-i-l knew my son would especially like to celebrate a milestone birthday in L.A., so she arranged to surprise him with a trip here!

My younger son is visiting, too. I’m delighted to have everyone around.

Plus, this also heralds my brother’s birthday--and mine! That’s the three-in-a-row I’ve mentioned before.

Since we live in the L.A. area, I think we’ll celebrate my occasion by a visit to Disneyland, although that hasn’t been decided for certain. In any event, my celebration started last month with our trip to Las Vegas and taking in the Terry Fator show. It continues thanks to having family around!

What are you celebrating next?

--Linda