This past Monday morning at 7:37am I awoke to a telephone call from my father. All I could hear through the line was the sound of cars in the background [he was driving] and his voice, muffled by distractions, suggesting my mother was in the midst of a heart attack.
I instantly threw myself out of bed and landed at the heart institute where I waited for nearly two hours to find out if my mom was going to make it. The sound of that ticking clock will be forever embedded in my mind.
I bet after my opening lines you are wondering how on earth I am going to relate this true life story to the world of antiques.
Just like an antique:
“I cherish my mother because I know she is rare. There is nothing that can replace her. She is one-of-a-kind and brings warmth to any room.”
My mother is on the road to recovery and made it through the storm. The past few days have really reinstated (for me) the importance of family and living life to the fullest since at any moment things can completely change. They also made me realize the importance of the very few things I have left [in my belongings] that are of sentimental value.
Before I go I wanted you to see this old Letter J from my childhood years which is meant to hang on a wall. I remember where it hung and how the creepy clown scared me a little. Even after all these years I have kept it because it brings back so many memories.
The moral of this story is;
it is very difficult (may be impossible) to replace things that are rare and/or evoke an emotion because of some sort of attachment to the past;
Someone once told me writing is therapy for the soul and I believe this to be true.