Pack Rat

I'm sitting here in the midst of what looks like the eye of a storm. I got the brilliant idea last week to clean out our office closet and, as I've mentioned before, I got as far as dragging out all of the boxes and coats and, well, leaving them.

At first it was just being overwhelmed that kept me from completing the task and then it was doctor's orders that provided me with a legitimate excuse not to lift, bend, and sort.

Guess what? It has actually been a gorgeous weekend here. Like high 70s and all that. I've been in the house, but I just thought I'd make you as jealous as I've been of everyone who wasn't stuck in the bed.

Actually, to be honest, I did break free and go see the newest Bond movie with BD and some of his classmates and...I would have rather stayed in the bed. Company? Good. Movie? Eh.

So, since I felt strong enough to brave the night air, I felt it was only right that today I venture back behind the closed door of the office.

Ick.

Really, ick.

I am such a pack rat. I know why though. You know how either you, or someone you know, has this, like, family home that they go to on holidays, in the summers, or maybe even every weekend? Maybe you/they even still have your/their old bedroom, filled with childhood memorabilia? There's a high school diploma, photos of old friends, trophies, and posters? Well, that's my office. Since I don't have that kind of "home base" I must choose to drag so many things with me each and every time I move. Add in being a military family now and...whoa. It's a lot of crap. Each time though, I purge. I'm getting better. Still not up to BD's standards, but better. He knows better than to get on me too hard though since his senior photos are prominently on display in his parents' home. I'm glad they are though. Because he looks goofy and I get a kick out of it. Like I should talk, but still.

So back to my flea market office.

Every once in a while, I do come across something good. And then I say, "This? This I can keep for a little while longer." Because it made me smile. And who doesn't need an extra, unexpected smile every few years?

Postmark: 18 JAN 1995, Andover, KS

A lifetime ago, yet still relevant.



I'll provide a translation since teenage boys aren't exactly known for their fine penmanship.

Dear Chrystal,

I know it's been a while since I've talked to you. I'm sorry that this time it's for a different reason. Kristi told me about your mother and she said it's had a very big effect on you. I can't honestly say that I know how it feels to lost someone so close but I can imagine how torn I would be. Kristi was upset too, she was crying on the phone when she called me and explained. If there is anything I can do or Kristi can do, please just tell either of us. If it helps you, feel free to write to me. I can understand how the academy isn't easy at all and I know it will seem nearly impossible now, but whatever you do don't give up. I hope you don't hate me right now because I'm not feeling it like you are. I just wanted to write this to you and tell you how truly sorry I am that this happened to you. I guess this letter is from Kristi as well as me; I know she wanted me to sign her name too.

I never met your mother and I've only met you over a weekend, but Kristi as you know, talks about everything, including you. It's always about how good of a friend you are or how you manage to cheer her up. She told me about an time when I guess she went with you to your house, or your grandmother's house. From what I've heard you have a wonderful family with lots of people who really love you. She told me that your mother was a happy person who was great to be around and was always able to make you guys laugh about something. But Chrystal you haven't really lost her, she'll always be near you to protect you and guide you and I doubt she would want for you to quit that school now. Just close your eyes sometime when you're alone and relax and think of all the good things and you'll feel your mother near you! She'll always be there for you.

I hate to say this but I'd better turn out the lights here, it's 4am here in Kansas, you'll be up in an hour. Just remember toy can always talk to me and Kristi.

P.S. Chrystal you're a great girl and I hope you're still the crazy, free spirit I remember the next time I see you!

What a great guy, huh? And he was 18 or 19 when he wrote this. That's the kind of boy(s) you want to raise and/or for your daughter(s) to bring home, let me tell ya. He didn't have to write to me, but he knew that I was important to his girlfriend and she was important to him. Sigh. There's a long story with a happy ending for this couple, but that's theirs to tell.

Oh, I guess 007 isn't all that bad. Thanks, Ben.