Sometimes it seems as if the years I spent raising my children were just a dream.
And then I will stumble upon a reminder.
Like this one I found last Tuesday in the wood pile - reminding me of both my children and their gift and talent with the guitar:
Or these that I found in a box of lego that my honourary grand-daughters were playing with - reminding me of:
my daughter's passion for horses
and, my son's passion for all things star trek.
And last summer, before I embarked on a long vacation I found this suddenly appearing on the hallway floor:
I have no recollection of this ladybug, and not sure where she came from, but I popped her into my pocket, and she travels with me.
Reminding me that I was a mother of young children.
Reminding me that I am still a mother.
Allowing me to hold on to the memories for a little while longer.
The guitar is an instrument that links us all together: daughter and son, mother and father.
The ladybug and the little horse are tokens of my daughter.
The starship Enterprise, and this hummingbird are tokens of my son. He embroidered it for me a few years ago.
These tokens are with me always.
Tangible objects for an intangible concept.