My desk is a regular menagerie of small knickknacks that my children have made or given me over the years. I have a little jar of gold my daughter bought me while on vacation, clay sculptures, fimo bears and an assortment of “best papa ever” statues and plaques. I just have a hard time getting rid of them, and so they have slowly taken over my desk to the point where dusting is a full day event.
I’m just that perfect bad combination of pack rat and sentimentalist.
This is most obvious when you look at the bulletin board I keep above my desk. Here you will find a dizzying collage of graduation announcements, thank you cards, posters, first communion invitations, baby pictures and wedding invitations.
If you send me a note, it must go to the Board of Fame.
I just love looking up and remembering all the relationships that mean so much to me.
So I decided to share a little of it with you. The first thing that pops out to me is a song my daughter wrote for me:
The Song of NatureAs I walk through the breeze,It get’s everywhere except my knees.And while the petals fall like fairies,It makes me so merry.And like I see the swallows fly over cliffs and meadows,I see the sky turn red, pink and different shades of yellow.And as God plans everything,One day we must go on His wing.To: My dearest PapaFrom: His loving daughter Aurora
Could you throw it away? I certainly can’t. It’s hung right above the Star Trek figurines that my wife got me for my birthday last year, right next to the picture my other daughter drew of our dream boat, named “Loft Oin”.
There is the graduation announcement from one of my youth group kids from years back, and no, it’s not a high school announcement, it’s for college. When did I get so old that my first youth group kids are married and having children? Well look there, there are some of their baby pictures.
No, it’s not all that formal. I don’t have them framed, and you can date them by measuring the dust. Like my memory, much of the past has been covered up by the new, but I know with a little work, I can pull back the layers and look into the past of those who changed my life, by letting me into theirs.
One quote on my wall grabs my attention: