Friday, May 24, 2013

Treasures from the Deep

While beginning to box up some of our things, I've come across a few buried treasures.

 College entrance scores/transcripts/papers and sticker collections from the early 80s. 

Soft brown lined school paper, dating back to 1979.  This one's actually my brother, Eric's.  He still has beautiful penmanship.

Some weird zombie princess I drew even though I denied all things girly and all things princess-y.  Maybe I drew it for my future Abby.

 An autographed picture of Stephanie Powers.  I know you're jealous.  Standing in line at KMart with my grandmother to get "Mrs. Hart" to sign her picture was a moment.  She was actually really rude and my grandmother and I left that place saying, "Hmph.  Her clothing line doesn't even have any coolots!"  

Notes to high school heart throbs, college romances, and best friends gone now but never forgotten.

Old dream journals I kept religiously to figure out my "theme" and what it was trying to tell me.  This dream let me know I was not going to be a veterinarian after all if I actually wanted to graduate from college.  Dreams to me are still gospel and while I wish I grew up to be a vet, I know (and knew) full well I don't have the mind for it.

My teacher planning books filled with lessons ached over and tweaked to death.  Not until pouring over each of these, my students' work, and all the curriculum I made up from scratch for five separate subjects did I come to believe I did not suck as a teacher as I thought I did back then.  I was green, unseasoned, and impatient with myself but I did a damn good job in hindsight.  Wish the younger me gave herself a break and believed she was doing fine work.  If you're reading this and are too hard on yourself.  Stop.  Just stop.  You will look back and wish you were still that good.  Trust.

These were love letters from a class I co-taught a 1st grade class.  They called me Miss P, spelled phonetically.  26 little rainbow hearts all labeled to one Mrs. Pee.  I loved those little faces.


Here we have a Valentine from Andy when he was deployed on an aircraft carrier.  We became engaged and a couple of months later, he was out to sea for our entire engagement.  It was right after 9/11 so I was terrified for him, honored to be his fiance, and lucky to have a wedding to obsess about while he was gone.

 (Inside card view) Not sure if you can read the cut-outs but these were my favorite gifts Andy ever gave me.  Each one made me laugh harder than the next.  He had a lot of time (a LOT of time) on the ship and these cards have since gone by the wayside in favor of Hallmark so these are archived for our kids some day.

 A pile of lyrics, songs, and poetry from my time in the studio in my twenties.  Another golden era I was fortunate to have.  Man, I have lived a full life.  I always tell Andy if I die tomorrow (which by the way I'm really hoping I don't), please know I have no regrets.  I have done all I've set out to do with my life. My twenties were rich in art, hard work, love, and fearlessness.  My thirties have been devoted to my family, and my forties will be a big surprise for all of us.  I'm guessing antique shopping and a sh*tload of naps but I will probably need to get a paying gig.

All of these are legit treasures in their own right.  But none of which prepared me for this black and white beauty:

 Do you see his autograph bottom right corner?  

Look at all the intricate swirlies.  Can't get over how long this must've taken him to do by hand.

At first I thought it was a self-portrait.  Now I'm not so sure it's not George Harrison.  Either way, it's mesmerizing to me and I can't wait to hang it up in our new office at the new house when we get there.

We'll put it right next to this picture I found next to Jimmy's.  The one seated is my grandfather before he retired as a Brigadier General in the army.   Handsome fella, isn't he?  I always thought he looked like Jimmy Stewart.  And talked like him a bit too. 

I adore these men.  Always have.  Always will.  Death doesn't change that.  Death just makes me want to hang on to their memories more than I ever have before. 

It's what you do when you come across such priceless buried treasure.  You hold on to them.

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