I immediately embraced the idea and my mind went racing...thinking first of my mother and the things I have that would represent who she was...her skill and talent as a seamstress, her ability to cook and to knit...her willingness to fix/repair/remodel whatever was needed around the house...but then I stopped...
and thought...what about my dad...
In my office, on my bookshelves, I have a large stack of paperbound play scripts...they belonged to my father...who was a devotee of the theater and active in an amateur theater group while I was growing up...
It was great fun to see my dad perform on stage...so animated and alive...as I've grown older, I think perhaps that he was frustrated with his small town life, the trials and tribulations of raising 6 children, a nondescript middle management job, wanting something more...and that acting on the stage refreshed his soul. He was an English major in college and instilled in me an appreciation of the spoken and written word...sometimes I helped him with his lines for the play...his notations in the margin remind me of his interpretations...and his decisive handwriting belied a stronger spirit...
It is interesting how just a few items can indeed define a person...and these many years later make me pause...
and reflect...on who this man was...
Linking up to kim klassen's Friday Finds...where my find is reflecting on the foibles of the human soul...
