Reading this writing prompt, I did a mental inventory of my objects. If someone broke into my house, they wouldn’t even give them a second glance.
Randomly in my list….My grandfather’s gold wedding band. He came over to America in the early 1900’s. His wedding band looks like it was made in Medieval times. Wide, dented and crude. Next is my Father’s wedding band, I think it’s silver. I never checked. I’m not sure if he ever wore it after the wedding ceremony. He was a machinist and always working with his hands. Those two men worked hard their entire lives. And are the reason I’m here to write about it.
I have a decorative transit compass, made of brass. It is symbolic of the real one I used for 15 years in my military career when I had to sight my equipment to find a specific satellite to aim at. I couldn’t have done my job without it. I told my wife when I spotted it, that it was the reason we could afford our house.
I would have literally been lost without it.
I have an ugly grey claw hammer. It was my brother’s, who passed away at the young age of 44. He was a master carpenter. I can never get rid of it. But I do question my brother’s taste in hammers. 😉
I have a set of old S-shaped crescent wrenches my Dad used. They are probably indestructible.
I bought my Dad a coal miner statue made out of coal. He never took it out of the box. He wasn’t into decorating and was probably sick of coal after digging for it over 22 years. I have it on my desk at work, to remind me how hard life could be and my family roots. And to remind me of the sacrifices my father made for his family.
I have an assortment of military challenge coins. They are sitting in a jewelry box. I have no place to display them right now, but each one is a memory of a deployment somewhere. And presented to me as an informal and honorary thank-you for my hard work.
Less intangible things, a scar from a torn bicep repair. I was helping my neighbor who passed away this year lift his heavy four-post bed to add a support leg and my right arm made a loud snapping noise. I cringe just thinking about it. But its a reminder of when I helped someone in need, whom I dearly cared about. At the time of the incident, he was slowly down, and nobody knew that his cancer would come back to him and take him away from us in 6 months.
I carry both good and bad memories. To remind me of this person at the keyboard, what makes him tick. What influences him to keep trying with all his good strengths and failures fighting it out with what seems hourly most days
I carry a hole in my heart of loss. Lost family who went from advanced age, or from sickness, or a tragic accident. I long for answers to questions I still have, missed conversations, missed holidays and meals together. A random phone call or text to share good news, or to say, I just need a shoulder to lean on.
I miss those hugs hello or goodbye.
I carry my regrets close to my chest, to hopefully not repeat them and to be a better husband and father.
And finally, I hold this new perspective on life dearly, as I approach 60 next year. To cherish my life, to concentrate on being happy and making time for me and my loved ones. Not chasing a job title or material things anymore.
The Past Is A Harsh Mistress 