Everyone has anchors in their lives. They are things,places and people that keep you steady and firmly placed on this earth. When you lose one,you tend to spin out of control a little until you reset your bearings.
I still have one of my anchors from my earliest youth. My stuffed dog Rusty. Rusty slept with me,listened to my dreams and kept me safe from the monsters in the closet. He was a good extra pillow, too. Rusty knows more about me than anyone, and he's not telling.
I've lost two very important anchors; my brother Carl and my cousin Charlie both died young men. I went off course for a long time after their deaths, and my steering is still a little wobbly.
My childhood home is a huge anchor. It's where all the love and arguments,the sweating over homework, the praying for snow days, all the stuff that formed one's life still hangs in the air. Mom and dad are getting older and they talk of having to move out. The day that anchor is no longer firmly planted will be traumatic for me. I know it's coming. I hope I can stay the course.
Maybe Rusty can help me steer.
1 comment:
Looks like this could be your claim to fame. Of course the memories are there for me too.
Your Loving Sis,
Cher
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