When I got to Twin Oaks on Friday I needed to grab some pillowcases, so I headed up to commie. While there I also grabbed a backpack. Not just any backpack, one I had purchased about 3 years ago, used for a while, then put in commie- it’s been used by several other people since then and had made it’s way back to the communal bag swap.
Then, I was rummaging through one of Pax’s drawers (which used to be my drawers, as he now lives in the room I used to live in) and found my wedding ring from my commitment ceremony with my ex-partner Caroline. I hadn’t seen the ring in years- I had been holding onto it planning on doing something symbolic with it and then just simply lost track of it.
Finally, while moving the 4 winter coats (I am not exaggerating- there were actually 5 but one used to belong to his father so I kept it) from Pax’s clothes hooks to the ones in the living room, I found a very special blanket of mine which I thought had been lost in the 2011 earthquake, the flooding of my room, and subsequent cleanup. This blanket had a lot of emotional significance to me- it was originally purchased in Dublin in 2009 to be used as part of a healing ritual, was my go-to “this will help you feel a little better” blanket when a friend had a traumatic experience, and was one of my favorite physical objects. The happiness I feel from finding this blanket is likely inappropriate for an adult woman, but if you felt how fuzzy this blanket is you’d understand.
I feel like I should wrap up this post with some grand metaphor about letting things go, finding things again, and really sturdy backpacks, but I’m not. Figure it out yourself, it’s dinnertime and (correction post dinner) there was an amazing beef stew tonight. Mmmm, happy cows make tasty stew.