When Heather was little she wore red sparkly shoes.
She loved them.
She would wear garish clashing socks with them with much enthusiasm and joy.
Today I pick through socks at the bottom of drawers and scraps of paper on the bedside table. Mate-less socks, receipts not filed away properly, drawings from Heather, books I intend to read, a card from Dana.... they clutter these two bedrooms on the ground floor at Mom and Dad's.
I work my way though it all, slowly, heavily, not very efficiently. I wonder to myself how we amass such a lot of mess in 8 months of living here. It's time to clear it out, pack up what's needed, try to put these rooms back in order before we leave.
The little piles, the scraps of this and that, they jiggle memories loose from the corners of my mind. These goodbye notes from Heather's friends... My first grade class in Sweden that I left early as we moved to England...
I ponder the past and wonder at the future as I sort and pack these traces of our lives, sighing as I look for a place to save Heather's tiny red shoes.
6 comments:
Dear sweet Lisa, Mr. Rogers would say that parenting is much of looking back through our memories of what now our children are experiencing. You understand Heather's sweet spirit in profound ways because of who you are.
May the rubble rest peacefully!
Beautiful thoughts, Lisa.
Didn't know you lived in Sweden?
Nina
Hi Nina! We lived in Sweden for four years so I was there from 4-8 years old...
Yes, those little red shoes must be packed away safely, along with a Wizard of Oz DVD....how sweet!
If my memory is right, I remember those red shoes!
Thinking of you during these packing and pitching days.
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