Digging around in a trunk full of memories sure does yield interesting results. I keep coming across items that I forgot even existed. I pick each one up and I am blown away by the memories. Last week's findings were really emotional, today's were a little lighter.
You see, I am currently on a rather frenzied search for a sweater that I am sure I knit thirty years ago. Can't find the damned sweater. Surely to god I haven't conjured up a false memory on this? As I blogged about a while back, I seriously remember knitting a pastel coloured baby sweater with unusually long arms. It should have been in the box I located today filled with First Born's baby dresses, but it wasn't. There were, however, some other absolute treasures that I will probably feel compelled to write about in the coming days.
For example, today, I found three poems from my past. Which is quite a lot, given that I've probably written a total of six poems in all of my life. I might have been sixteen when I wrote the first one, but can't say for sure. Best Friend will remember when it was penned. (She never even dabbled in addiction, so she has a much better memory than I.) All I remember is that the poem was about a boy. Not sure which one.
Silent Tears, Secret Fears
I wonder what you would do if you knew you were my life,
Wonder what you would say if you knew what I longed to hear.
Do you miss me the ways I miss you?
Can you feel for me like I feel for you?
How ironic is it that I can't even remember for which great love of mine this poem was intended? I am not sure if I forget because I was fickle...or fried. It was definitely in the 70s. Damned boys anyway. Except for this last one who has been hanging around for going on twenty years. He's a keeper. Although I've never written a poem about him...
Girls, now they are a different story altogether. I have been so blessed when it comes to women friends. I have a small handful (Best Friend and the Mouse, in particular) of the most amazing women friends who have been there for me in good times and in bad, for well over three decades. Others I have known and loved for two decades, including some amazing women who have travelled or are travelling the road of recovery with me still. Old or new, these chiclets mean the world to me. I know that I wrote the following peom specifically to convey to Best Friend all the love and appreciation I had for her so many years ago, but tonight the poem goes out to all of the gal friends in my life today.
Twenty years may pass until next we meet
Yet I will recognize our friendship in your eyes
And if they hold instead
A sad or solemn gleam
I shall cross the boundaries of time
To hold you.
Because as they have all taught me, that's just what girl friends do. Ask Carole King.