Saturday, February 16, 2013

Challenge - Day 16: "Something You Bought"

I've been working on the railroad
All the live long day.
I've been working on the railroad
Just to pass the time away.

Two years old, blonde hair, huge blue/gray eyes. A little boy singing his favorite song over and over again as he walked and jumped back and forth on the sectional sofa in the living room. All this caught on videotape by the mom who couldn't bear to scold him for jumping on the furniture because it was just so cute. A videotape watched repeatedly by the boy and his mom as he grew because they loved to laugh at the hard evidence of (1) him being so cute and (2) him breaking the rule about the furniture. Caught red-handed. It became one of their favorite private jokes. 

A few years later the mom found a clock for sale at Christmas time. One shaped like an old-fashioned pocket watch with a train embossed on the front. It was larger than a watch and opened to reveal a clock surrounded by a miniature train on a track. When the clock was wound, the train moved around the circle playing "I've Been Working on the Railroad." 

"How perfect," thought the mom. "I'll buy this a put it away for a few years, save it for a time when he is older. Some special occasion like high school graduation. Some day when he'll smile and enjoy the memory of the video. The video of him singing his favorite train song and breaking the rules. It will be a special moment for the two of us again."

I took the clock out of the box for the first time today, took these photos and put it back. It will probably return to the cabinet where it has been sitting for years, waiting for me to figure out what to do with it. I don't want to leave it out where I can see it; this memory still hurts too much to be reminded of it every day. Even writing this has been much harder than I thought it would be. So much so that I don't think I can write much more.

Thanks for stopping by today. I'll see you tomorrow. 

1 comment:

  1. Oh, my! The clock is wonderful, but the memory is even more precious, bittersweet as it is. Thank you for sharing this fragile piece of your soul.