I was at a friend’s last week. And we were doing a bit of home design work.
While moving things around, it was renewing to inject fresh energy into a space – utilizing the same items, just repositioning. And refocusing.
The furniture included an old oak cabinet, that I recognized for its use. Being a lover of music, I always loved the old fashioned record players. (Mine was a plastic one. “sigh”) I am talking about the stately wooden cabinets with a lid that when lifted, exposed the purple velvet album turntable. And the large stylus, that when played would echo static and scratches of a time gone by.
My friend had one of those record players! It was beautiful!
It took me to an imaginary ‘before my time’ place, when my grandparents were young. Thick disks of music played in the evening, offering the soul a dance.
The memories were right there. Sounds
of dancing and laughter, carried between home and ballroom. Dancing-with friends. Can you imagine the stories that were shared?!
Just opening the lid of the phonograph player prompted a resonance of life and living. In comparison to the lid being cautiously closed with an imaginary ‘do not touch’ sign sitting out front.
That would be a totally different memory. A different memory scroll.
The question this week for your memory vessel is: When you think of your Dad – what sound comes
to mind and why?
Share. Write. And…share!
Living fully – carving a life,