Thursday, July 18, 2013

Just An Old Desk

Recently when going through files of pictures, I found myself looking at this particular photo differently than when I took it awhile back. Of course seeing my granddaughter smiling, holding her crayons still makes me as happy as it did that Sunday afternoon. But this time it had a deeper meaning. Maybe it's because she's growing up. Maybe it's because she is talking a mile a minute and asking questions and sings and dances and loves butterflies and jewelry and dinosaurs and books and knows her colors and can count and remembers where she left everything when visiting the last time. Or maybe it's because I still remember her father sitting at that desk-coloring, playing with his G.I. Joes and Matchbox cars. She looks just like him. It's the eyes.

When curiosity got the best of her that day, I helped her open the top of the desk. We found a few G.I. Joes-a few scribbles her father had done and a few papers from when he was in elementary school. They had gold stars on them. She loved the purple stars Santa left all over her presents last Christmas-loves the moon-loves going up and down the stairs and taking bubble baths and sticking stickers and playing hide 'n seek. She looks for the two pound puppies I keep on the back of the sofa for when she visits. One belonged to her father. She loves playing with the mother whales and their babies. She puts them in the tub with her. They were her father's too.

That desk has even more of a history. It was in the old chicken coop converted to a clubhouse when I was growing up out in the country. I bet I sat at that desk when playing with cousins. I probably colored and had fun dropping things down the inkwell into the desk-just like my granddaughter did-just like her father did. Some of the marks on the top of the desk might have come from me-or her father-or maybe there are new ones from this little blessing herself. Funny how things become heirlooms without our noticing. But then who notices time passing day by day. We're busy-until something like an old desk with an inkwell and a top that's fun to open and close over and over again-or mommy whales kept in a worn, cardboard box with their babies-or even pound puppies worn by hugs-stops us in our tracks and makes us take note of time whizzing by and babies growing.

3 comments:

  1. I love the picture of Mel at the desk and your fun story of memories gone by. It's so important to stop and enjoy those little things in life! :)

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  2. Exactly! I wish I had the old school desk that came from the one room school house on Tunnel Road in NY. We had a room set up as our school room for play in our big old farm house. The school house is now long gone, but I wish I could go back in time to when I stood looking at the outhouse door where my own Grandfather had carved his name in 1910... He was 10 years old when he did that. It was 1957 and I was 10 when I discovered his name carved in the wood, I didn't miss the irony.

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    1. We are blessed Darlene with beautiful memories. So often I wish I could go back to the old chicken coop turned into our clubhouse! But it, like that one room school house on Tunnel Road,is long gone. Thanks for sharing!

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