Saturday, September 08, 2012
Archaeology and Time Travel Amongst the Rubbermaid Bins
I am finally finishing up that closet excavation I started when A&A were in San Diego this summer.
Frankly, it has been heart-breaking.
If I had a time machine I would not zip off to right big historical wrongs. Rather I would travel ten years back and pop 'round to our house. I would send myself out for a massage, and I would sit down on the button rug in what we still would have been calling the Nursery and I would play the Bead Game and build block towers and make tea parties for the plush toys with Ander. I would travel seven years back, and send myself out for a massage, and I would play the Bead Game and build block towers and make tea parties for the dollies with Zaza. I would teach Ander and Zaza how to make mudpies (because I think we maybe never ever did that). I would memorize their faces while they napped.
But I do not have a time machine. And it feels like having a wonderful idea that you want to share with a favorite auntie, and then remembering that she passed away years and years ago.
It hurts me so, not being able to see those days ever ever again.
Once should be enough, I know it should.
But I am greedy, and the once-beloved toys only take me so far back, and leave me feeling all hollow and want-y.