This date occurred on January 9. One more action closes the year, and I don’t know the special day it will happen. Thursday the 9th I was home after a medical procedure tied to age and not fatal, yet requiring naps and rest. As I felt better, the task began. I took the box decorated with a Metropolitan Christmas angel and began sorting and labeling Christmas notes and cards to do the refrigerator museum for the this year. I had already removed last year’s offerings to create open spaces for new memories.
Now they are in stacks. One is family generations. Nieces and nephews and their offspring to even the great-great group. These remind me of the life I have lived. One grandmother was almost four at our wedding. She earnestly looked at me and said, “What were you and Uncle Davo talking about up there?” I’ve managed to meet some of the new additions while #s 86, 91, 93, and 95 are identified by the family they are pictured with. A treasure is a cousin I have not seen since I was six, and yet, this is our contact.
Friends are a diverse group. One couple has been ours for it seems like forever. Their children and ours were matched one and then another and grew up in various activities. Blessed ones were once young women who were my peers in teaching and still keep in touch with their growing families. A college roommates and I are in phone contact , and her picture has the cheerful smile from years past. A few came sideways as friends of our children, yet they care enough about me to send a card.
A mystery book quote says, “Measurement is interaction.” Looking at each face is a measurement of a time together. A favored uncle sent only Biblical cards. At the center of all these cherished people is an art project from a school where I taught. Each scotched taped memory speaks to this verse.
Let Me Tell Ya 