In my attempt to make a little sense of all the loose papers, photographs, and mementos that I've stashed in every nook and cranny I labeled 4 boxes...one for me only, one for each son (2) and one for their posterity that might interest them both. I'm thinking that if I move or god forbid die (I'm not delusional) the boxes are labeled for each child to take for their own memory store.
As I sorted and categorized I came across a book of dreams that I meticulously recorded during a very very hard time in my life and the thought of anyone, especially my children, ever reading them made me sick. I scanned through it and decided it was over, been there, done that.........and tossed it..............BUT I did save a few paragraphs. Out of the reams of writing there were a few statements that still held water, a few other lines that were poetic enough to describe my depths of feeling without being too particular and then, this simple description of a dream I had one night of my most beloved childhood home on Moores Mill Rd. in Atlanta, Georgia, a place that my mind often visits.
The street of my favorite childhood appeared in my dreams but the beautiful facades were found to be supported in back by mere scaffolding and rusty fire escapes. The expansive backyards which supplied dimension and privacy were subdivided with new foundations and the beginnings of new homes.
I think the message I take from this picture is that I am always new...that today is the most important day of my life and that makes me smile.