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Things I lost in the fire
The writing prompt on the lj homepage is "What have you lost that you wish you still had?", and I don't usually write the prompts, but an immediate response came to mind with that one.
When our house burned down 14 years ago, a lot of family heirlooms and treasures were lost: my mom's wedding dress (which had been her mother's dress), our baby books, pictures, some jewellery that had been passed down, report cards and other records, and so on. Irreplaceable items that don't carry the significance and weight of the relationships and legacy that they represent, but that are still important and meaningful on their own. Oddly enough, though, those aren't always the things that come to mind first.
No, what often comes to mind is this little jewellery box that I'd gotten for Christmas a month before the fire. I don't even remember who gave it to me. My grandma, I think, but I'm not entirely sure. I don't even remember if I got it during our Christmas at the farm or in Chicago. It was wooden, kind of an odd shape, with a few little drawers. It was more for show than anything else, I think, since there were only about three drawers and they were so small and oddly shaped that they wouldn't hold much more than a few pieces of jewellery... but then again, that's probably what it was best designed for.
I have no idea what else I got for Christmas that year, and if the fire hadn't happened, that box probably would have just been something else that I collected and eventually outgrew. I'm guessing that it likely would have stayed in my parents' house when I went to college, or I might have given it away at some point, or a piece would have gotten lost, or the handle would have fallen off, or...
But because I only had it for a month, it stuck in my mind. I have very clear memories of writing it down on the insurance forms (or maybe it was just my list that Mom transcribed onto the official forms). There are a few things that I remember clearly about that process: a heavy, ceramic bank shaped like Noah's Ark, with who-knows-how-much money inside; giving up on trying to list my clothes and books individually and just estimating how many of each I had; thinking through my bedroom from one end to the other, trying to picture everything in it, writing each item down as I pictured it; someone blurting out "Umbrellas!" in the middle of a conversation, remembering that they needed to be added to the insurance inventory; spending every spare minute in school the day after the fire writing the list, when the visual of the rooms was the clearest.
Maybe I don't miss that silly little jewellery box the most out of anything that I've lost, either tangible or intangible. If I had my choice of something to have back from my life, it wouldn't even make the top 10, I'm sure. And maybe I don't really wish that I still had it, but of all the random possessions that I sometimes remember, that one comes to mind fairly often.
relaxedWhen our house burned down 14 years ago, a lot of family heirlooms and treasures were lost: my mom's wedding dress (which had been her mother's dress), our baby books, pictures, some jewellery that had been passed down, report cards and other records, and so on. Irreplaceable items that don't carry the significance and weight of the relationships and legacy that they represent, but that are still important and meaningful on their own. Oddly enough, though, those aren't always the things that come to mind first.
No, what often comes to mind is this little jewellery box that I'd gotten for Christmas a month before the fire. I don't even remember who gave it to me. My grandma, I think, but I'm not entirely sure. I don't even remember if I got it during our Christmas at the farm or in Chicago. It was wooden, kind of an odd shape, with a few little drawers. It was more for show than anything else, I think, since there were only about three drawers and they were so small and oddly shaped that they wouldn't hold much more than a few pieces of jewellery... but then again, that's probably what it was best designed for.
I have no idea what else I got for Christmas that year, and if the fire hadn't happened, that box probably would have just been something else that I collected and eventually outgrew. I'm guessing that it likely would have stayed in my parents' house when I went to college, or I might have given it away at some point, or a piece would have gotten lost, or the handle would have fallen off, or...
But because I only had it for a month, it stuck in my mind. I have very clear memories of writing it down on the insurance forms (or maybe it was just my list that Mom transcribed onto the official forms). There are a few things that I remember clearly about that process: a heavy, ceramic bank shaped like Noah's Ark, with who-knows-how-much money inside; giving up on trying to list my clothes and books individually and just estimating how many of each I had; thinking through my bedroom from one end to the other, trying to picture everything in it, writing each item down as I pictured it; someone blurting out "Umbrellas!" in the middle of a conversation, remembering that they needed to be added to the insurance inventory; spending every spare minute in school the day after the fire writing the list, when the visual of the rooms was the clearest.
Maybe I don't miss that silly little jewellery box the most out of anything that I've lost, either tangible or intangible. If I had my choice of something to have back from my life, it wouldn't even make the top 10, I'm sure. And maybe I don't really wish that I still had it, but of all the random possessions that I sometimes remember, that one comes to mind fairly often.