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Sentimental Journey

August 18th, 2014 by Magdalena Tabor

My father was a true craftsman. He was trained in the art of making shoes. Shoes. How do you make a shoe?? He made them for disabled sentimental journeypeople. Some of those people happened to be skaters and skiers with talents of their own; training for the Olympics and even winning sometimes. The man behind the boots they wore was none other than my father; the apparent pride he took in pointing them out when we watched them go for the gold. Gold. The very thing his heart was made of. When he died I inherited a pair of the finely crafted wing tips he wore, his fancy signature scrawled on the leather inside. To look at them, you’d never think that someone actually made them. Useless to me, of course, but something I could never bear to part with. There are things we carry our life long simply because they tug at our heartstrings.
It hearkens back to the days of our childhood. Remember the movie version of To Kill A Mockingbird? Scout has a cigar box with bits of childish treasure. I had one just like it. Throughout my life one of my possessions was always a box or chest of some kind containing things randomly tossed into it. Kind of like a junk drawer but with things of better quality. Things like concert tickets, birthday cards too sweet to trash, letters from friends, old photographs, pieces of our hearts. You get the picture. Maybe you even have one. I think I may have several.
These boxes, full of meaningless bunk to others, are portions of our lives we’ve gathered over the years. Peering into them, we gain a sense of where we’ve been and what we’ve experienced; a diary of sorts with only we as the key keepers. No one else would have a clue as to the story behind each piece and although rarely looked at, we hold onto these bits and pieces of our selves. Who knows? Maybe I’ll have a great big bonfire one day and watch the sky grow black with fear and dread. No! I couldn’t possibly. Banish the thought.
Why do human beings keep things? By no means a hoarder, I’m a keeper of sunny days to mull over when there are rainy ones. Who knows how the minds works with its springs and gears that trigger an awakening when memory is probed. Our olfactories stimulated into long ago events by the scent of something on the breeze. Or in the case of a treasure box, pleasantries by the handful.

So………whadayathink? What’s in your memory box? Are you a sentimental traveler through time? Or do you trash everything in sight nevermore to ponder what’s been said and done? Ah, pity.

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One Response to “Sentimental Journey”

  1. Michael Tabor Says:

    I think this is my all – time favorite blog of yours: beautifully written as always, touching, and crammed with sweet nostalgia.

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