Storing Treasures

‘Little Boy Blue’, now confirmed to be Henry, Duke of Gloucester by artist, Adriaen Hanneman.

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When I was in grade 3, we bought an old house that had an attic. I discovered treasures. I took ownership of a metal bread box where I stored pens, notes and other valuables. I found a margarine container full of buttons that set my imagination on fire. Then there was the large, framed print I called Little Boy Blue because it reminded me of the logo for the ice cream company of the same name.

The buttons and bread box are long gone, but I still have the print. I dragged it with me from home to home – 9 moves in 30 years – before I settled in my condo 15 years ago. It’s been tucked away in the closet ever since. I don’t know why I feel so attached to it.

I still have the first chapter book I fell in love with – Light From Heaven, by Christmas Carol Kauffman. It was a gift from a neighbour. I barely remember her and don’t recall her name but, when she gave it to me, I felt seen.

I have other books I can’t bear to part with and a ceramic doll my aunt made for me. I have the guitar my sister gave me as a grad present. I have a box containing pieces of Dagny’s life – a sweater, her ceramic food bowl, a lock of her hair.

I will be storing these treasures, and others, for the foreseeable future but at some point I will need to make a decision about them. Give them away? Continue to pay for storage? Ship them to my new home?

The question on my mind – how long will I need to live in France before my history belongs there?

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My mom kept very few things of sentimental value. When we cleaned out her closet after she died, we found a stack of cotton handkerchiefs, each one labeled with the name of the person who gave it to her. I now treasure them, too.