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6.18.2013

YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE


I really don't need a lot of stuff in life.  And, by stuff I mean possessions, things, belongings, trinky dinky sorts of things.  I don't necessarily need the latest and the greatest.  It seems though if I do pursue something new I end up liking the most expensive one of anything; wood flooring, furniture, Brillo pads, underwear, shoes.  I just don't necessarily indulge though.

I also don't have a lot of sentimental things or stuff that I have carried for the whole of my life.  I couldn't tell you where my report cards are from school - probably in my parents' attic.  I really don't think I have one thing still in my possession that I had when I set up house married for the first time at the stupid young age of 18.  I suck at taking pictures with my beautiful Canon camera I bought when I was a realtor.  It takes great pictures if you use it.  There is not going to be a legacy of pictures and stuff to disburse upon my death probably.  Those just aren't the things I care deeply about.

Once in awhile I see something that speaks to me.  I saw one of those items in a store recently.  My husband was getting his haircut and the place was crowded.  To waste time until he was done, I walked to the store next door just to walk and look.  I perused most of the store; clothing, shoes, kitchen and then ended my walk through in the household/decorating section.  There was nothing I needed.  My possession vat was full.  That's when you are sure to find something - when you aren't needing it or even wanting it.

I rounded the aisle that housed wall hangings of all sorts.  It seems all the rage lately are wall hangings that are quotes or poignant statements.  Some seem over-used in real life and hokey or too contrite for a wall hanging.  My eyes fell across it - a 3 foot by 18-20" metal wall hanging of the words to the song, "You Are My Sunshine".  My heart skipped a beat and I felt a tear form in my eye. 

It was a sentimental marker.  In that instant I heard my dad's very bad singing voice bellowing it out as he carried me on his shoulders and marched around and around the dining room table.  I was 7 years old.  I saw his face, heard the would-have-been-kicked-off-of-American-Idol voice laced with love and playfulness singing those words to me.  I simply felt loved in such a powerful way the emotions wanted to carry me away.

I really didn't care who saw me cry.  It was a moment, a memory, a sentimental tie and I was fully in it.  It was both enveloping and tinged with a bit of sorrow that one day death would take my dad from me.  I propped it up again the shelf and took a picture of it to show Doug later.  Though I looked at it for some time, I didn't buy it.  I don't buy everything I like.  The memory was etched deeply on my heart with or without that wall hanging.

I caught back up to Doug and showed him the picture of what I had found.  He could still see how it had affected me. On more than one occasion he had heard the stories of that song and my dad.  He asked why I didn't buy it.  I explained my minimalistic nature and the internal theatre of my heart where the sounds, sights and feelings of that song and my dad lay.  They weren't going anywhere.

Several days later I entered the living room to find that picture leaned up against the hearth on the fireplace.  Just like the day I saw it in the store, emotion ripped right through me. I melted into Doug's arms where I continued to cry without being able to get control of myself.  It just had to all come out.  It seemed this wall hanging and those words had quite the power over me.

The magnitude of that picture now held duality; I was sunshine to my dad.  And now, I was sunshine to Doug.  Doug had looked into my heart.  He had taken the time to do something so extremely intimate, so sentimental.  His powerful love channeled itself through that wall hanging even though it was just a thing, a possession. 

I had experienced that powerful of love years and years ago as well when my dad joyfully sang the words of that wall hanging to me.  It is no wonder I love the sun! 

2 comments:

  1. This was beautiful. You are surrounded by wonderful people, which makes sense considering how wonderful you are!

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  2. Now that's some tender sh..tuff right there!! Seriously though very cool!

    ReplyDelete