The Five Things I'd Save

Read a great article today about a woman who had to evacuate her home.  Fortunately, everything turned out ok, a battery in a carbon monoxide detector needed replacing, but during that short time that she was displaced her life flashed before her eyes, and she considered the five items she would grab next time that, in the event of catastrophe, she would be devastated to lose. That stimulated my thinking, so here are my five: 

The picture of my sister and I when we were very young.  Pictures can be digitized and saved, I know, but this one sat on my Foley grandparents' bedroom dresser, and it shows us both at the terribly cute, albeit chubby, toddler age.  The picture is a treasure, though, because it brings back memories of visiting my grandparents: playing gin rummy until late in the night; fooling around on Gramma Lillian's organ, my sister played the feet keys and I played the hand keys; and eating at fancy restaurants where the waiters and waitresses knew my grandparents' names and where we got to drink Shirley Temples with the grown-ups.  

A family ancestry book that my Murphy grandfather wrote years ago is full of stories of life in upstate New York in the late 1800's and early 1900's, and it's really our record of his history in his voice.  In this book Grandpa shares his feelings of excitement at seeing Halley's comet all those years ago, as well as tragic stories of our Irish forebears and the trials and tribulations of their immigration trips to the US.

My favorite book of all time, Green Darkness, written by Anya Seton, must be taken.  This novel, historical fiction woven together between two times, caught my imagination in high school, and I reread it regularly even now.  The actual book is tattered and torn, but a new one wouldn't be the same.  In reflection, the book represents something of my transition from youth to young adult. 

I have a beautiful wooden Intarsia box that my husband made for me early in our marriage.  It is a complex piece with a rose in the center and made of a wonderful collection of naturally grained and colored wood.  The time and effort he put into the delicately carved lid charmed me all those years ago, and still does.

Finally, I have put in a special box two tiny outfits that my daughter and son wore when they were small.  My son's is his two-year-old Halloween costume, Winne the Pooh, which he continued to wear for at least another year and a half.  The hood up, ears perkily attached, he would run around the house comfortable in his bones. The other outfit my daughter wore, a pair of blue striped leggings and a butterfly blouse that captured her uplifting and positive little personality so well.

It is awful to consider the possibility of having to leave your home so abruptly, but it has been interesting to consider what I would take in the eventuality.  I'm sure I'll change my mind in the next few days.  But for now, these are the things that I want to hold close.  What about you?