And our love is in a time capsule
Let’s dig it up …
(Matthew Sweet, “Time Capsule”)
Whenever we move, we end up with one or two boxes of “stuff” — those last boxes thrown together in the kitchen the night before it’s time to go. They’re usually the last boxes to be unpacked, too, because they rarely hold anything essential. They’re full of the stuff that we probably should have just thrown away but for one reason or another never did.
We opened one such box today. It had remained unpacked for far longer than it should have. It was the random stuff box from the duplex we lived in in Missouri. That was at least three moves ago.
Among the box’s contents:
Dear Uncle Rockford & Aunt Nikki,
We miss you so much. We wish we could come to see you. We would like it. I think Daddy knows the way home.
(Mommy is writing down what I’m telling her to send you.)
We’re coloring right now, me and Sophie. We’re sharing all of the crayons.
When we get there we might have a picnic with you. Thank you for my letter and my magnet. I like your picnic paper. Sophie thought the magnet had a picture of Grandpa. She’s so silly.
I wrote my own name on the picture, all by myself. Sophie knows how to spell her name too S O P H I E.
I can’t wait to see you. Maybe I can call you this weekend or something. I wrote an extra red ‘M’ on my picture. I miss you.
Love,
Samp.s. When we get there I’ll give you a hug and a kiss.
Sam was 3 and a half when he wrote that. He’s going to be 10 in January. His letters have gotten far less verbose, and the content is more “Star Wars”-centric than it was back then. But we enjoy hearing from him, nevertheless.
It was fun going through the box. But I’m feeling quite old right about now.