Time, memories and rocks

Man, I've been busy.  I don't know where the time goes.  Saturday time crept by, I looked at the clock thinking It had to be well after one in the afternoon, to find it was actually only a little after eleven in the morning.  How does that happen?  I love days like that, I accomplish a lot.

Then, some days there are not enough hours, and I seem to get side tracked.  Yesterday was like that.  I would start one job, only to get distracted, and wander around as though I had my head under my armpit.  I didn't accomplish anything substantial all day. 

Monday was a transition day from structure to chaos.  And, I even found time to do something completely unexpected:

Once upon a time there was a Woman who had a fondness for rocks.  Everywhere she went she was sure to come home with a sandwich bag with rocks in it.  Beach, mountain, stops made on vacation, it made no matter were this woman went, she would bend over and pick up a treasure.  Sometimes the rocks would be dusty, sometimes wet.  Sometimes they would be smooth and round, sometimes jagged.  To her it didn't matter, it was a lasting treasure of a special time.

Woman's children grew and went on adventures of their own.  She requested only one thing from their experiences, rocks, just bring her rocks from where ever their destination was.  These were not be be the shiny, polished variety, but from the byways, parking lots, gas stations and country sides.  And, lo, her children complied.

Year by year Woman's collection grew.

Before long she had rocks from across America.  Woman would place them in a container and neatly label them.  Soon unusual items began to appear and were welcomed.  White sand from Florida, black sand from Hawaii, tan sand from Oregon.

Then there was ash from Mt. St. Helens, and an ash covered twig.  A cobblestone from an Old Philadelphia street.  A chunk of step from the capital of Ohio...it has fossils in it.  A tiny piece of the Berlin Wall.  A tiny stone from the pocket of pair of  'stone washed' jeans that somehow missed final inspection. 

She has a piece of brick from the sidewalk across the street from the bar made famous from the show Cheers.  A bag of bituminous coal from her hometown in Pennsylvania and a chunk of concrete from the old Mulholland Dam.  So many memories, so many treasures.

After a time Woman found her collection had grown to the extent she had rocks and natural objects from six of the seven continents.  Western and South Australia; South Africa; England, France, Italy, Germany; South Korea; Brazil; and of course America.
She treasured every item and they sat on display on shelves of her three season porch.

But, time passed, and her children married and started families of their own, their travel itineraries changed.  Woman learned to live alone, her forty year old home needed work, remodeling was required she had to pack up her treasured collection and put it into boxes.  It was a sad, sad day.

Over time Woman would pass by those boxes almost every day.  They began to collect dust, and soon took on the appearance of forlornness. Oh, yes, they were very much neglected. 

Then, one day, a wet, chilly, September day Woman walked by the boxes on the bottom shelf in her garage.  She was compelled to kneel.  She took a rag and dusted the top of one of the boxes and took the lid off.  The jars had been discarded and each treasure was now in a plastic bag with a slip of paper inside stating where the rocks had come from, and who had given it to her.  She found index cards inside the box, she had forgotten she had made lists of each treasure in the boxes. 

Woman sat for a long, long time, lifting each treasure, inspecting every bag.  She went through every box, read every card.  Eventually she returned the boxes to their resting place and tried to stand.  How long has she sat there, legs tucked under her?  There was pain, quite a bit of pain.  But, oh, the memories that had flooded back as she relived the moments she had received each beautiful gift, they made up for the numbed and aching muscles.

What will happen to Woman's treasures I do not know.  Some think they should be ground up and be made part of her headstone.  Some think they should be sculptured into a piece of art.  I imagine some might just want to chuck them away.  I'm glad it is not my decision to make.

Now, how to end this little tale.  I think I will close like this:

 

Some are beautiful and rare.

Some have great value.

Some are useful,

provide fuel,

make weapons.

 

Some record time,

Some record history,

Some tell a story.

 

Some are round and smooth,

While others are sharp and jagged.

 

Each one unique.

 

Some have traveled far,

others from around the bend.

All first seen through eyes of the beholder.

 

Gathered together,

All treasured.

 

Given and got with love.

 

MY ROCKS

 

 

sh 8-2-88