Today was the day. The day we drove to ISU to retrieve not our son but his stuff.
He has finals next week and we figured we’d drive down, go to church together, feed him, and haul back as much stuff as we could cram into our car.
The empty storage bins we used to cart his stuff to university last August had been stored haphazardly in the space above the garage. Most often I do not climb the disappearing ladder to retrieve Christmas decorations, luggage or storage bins. That's why we have a teen-ager!
This morning I did. The bins were waaaaay at the other end of the plywood panels. I’m smaller and weigh less, waaaaay less, than my husband so up the ladder I scrambled. On the way to one storage bin I detoured down memory lane.
I found the box label TODDLER TOYS and undid the folded corners before I thought of the consequences. I gently pulled item after memory filled item from the box while my husband shouted up encouragement like, “More over to your left. I see the plastic bin next to the box with the reindeer.”
I handed down 3 plastic bins and 1 cardboard box which I carried into the house and up to the spare room while my husband loaded the bins into the car. He’d made a wooden platform with wheels and a pull rope to transport the load. He was so proud of his cart. All I could see was the little cart with shapes popping up and down when my son pulled it behind. I remembered the clatter the toy made especially when he ran with it across the kitchen tiles.
I had to wait until we returned and carried in the paraphernalia critical to an almost 20 year old. His guitar hero, his poker chip case, his White Sox mugs and shot glass, his PS2 and enumerable games. All this and clothes and shoes piled in an already cluttered room.
When the room was bursting with his stuff I closed the door and carried the small box to the spare room where I found a place for the Toys in the Attic to set out again if only for a bit. If he smiles and his eyes widen in surprise then crinkle in memory they will be REAL.
He has finals next week and we figured we’d drive down, go to church together, feed him, and haul back as much stuff as we could cram into our car.
The empty storage bins we used to cart his stuff to university last August had been stored haphazardly in the space above the garage. Most often I do not climb the disappearing ladder to retrieve Christmas decorations, luggage or storage bins. That's why we have a teen-ager!
This morning I did. The bins were waaaaay at the other end of the plywood panels. I’m smaller and weigh less, waaaaay less, than my husband so up the ladder I scrambled. On the way to one storage bin I detoured down memory lane.
I found the box label TODDLER TOYS and undid the folded corners before I thought of the consequences. I gently pulled item after memory filled item from the box while my husband shouted up encouragement like, “More over to your left. I see the plastic bin next to the box with the reindeer.”
I handed down 3 plastic bins and 1 cardboard box which I carried into the house and up to the spare room while my husband loaded the bins into the car. He’d made a wooden platform with wheels and a pull rope to transport the load. He was so proud of his cart. All I could see was the little cart with shapes popping up and down when my son pulled it behind. I remembered the clatter the toy made especially when he ran with it across the kitchen tiles.
I had to wait until we returned and carried in the paraphernalia critical to an almost 20 year old. His guitar hero, his poker chip case, his White Sox mugs and shot glass, his PS2 and enumerable games. All this and clothes and shoes piled in an already cluttered room.
When the room was bursting with his stuff I closed the door and carried the small box to the spare room where I found a place for the Toys in the Attic to set out again if only for a bit. If he smiles and his eyes widen in surprise then crinkle in memory they will be REAL.
2 comments:
Ahhhhh, that was so sweet. You made me tear up.
I'm new, having just become acquainted with you yesterday. Your stories are very enjoyable and I'm planning to read your Grace Marseden mysteries (my favorite type of book-I was a Cherry Ames fan as a child). Should they be read in order? Glad I met you! Carolee aka Cara
My blog is creativeexecutions.blogspot.com
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