Old report cards. Artwork signed by the hand of a child. Notes I wrote when conversations where impossible. These are just a sampling of the lost treasures I came across today as I cleared out the bedroom closets of my grown daughters.
I allowed myself a detour - a side trip - back to another time and space. I sat on the floor, immersed in sifting through the memorabilia - flipping through my daughters art portfolio with her trademark, cartoonish figures with clever captions. Another sketchbook contained poetry and clever musings from my other daughter - I read every word. Today was one of those rare treats ... a potpourri of cleaning and leisurely browsing, as I just mentioned.
Time has passed so very quickly. I know - cliche, right? When I am alone and the house is quiet, if I lay on one of my girls' beds, and close my eyes, I swear I can hear the faint giggles of little girls and the echoes of yesteryear. The walls have absorbed the sounds of living and if you listen very closely, you can hear them. I am acutely aware that soon Kidlet will go the way of my other two precious treasures, as she embarks on a life of her own.
For now, I don't have to depend on the walls to remind me -- I still have a backstage pass.