Memories in the Attic

I was home in Connecticut about a month ago

spending time with my family,

paying the neighborhood donkeys a visit,

giving Little Cat scratches behind her ear. 

During my trip

I got baited into sorting through 

old bins and dusty boxes from our attic. 

I guess our sweet old house 

needs a sturdy new roof

and with that, 

the odds and ends 

and treasures that have accumulated 

over the years and grown comfortable and settled 

among old winter coats and broken lacrosse sticks -

Well. Their worth was being reevaluated. 

Cue almond-sized Emily tears
of panicky separation anxiety.
I sat for nearly 4 hours
and read through old love letters,
remembering the innocence of middle school crushes
and the romance that unfolded
on loose leaf paper.
I flipped through yearbooks and scrapbooks,
pausing on a page occasionally.
I wonder what happened to him?
Did she ever become a vet?
Daring myself to remember the exact layout
of my camp cabin,
the familiar smell of my elementary school,
the first kisses and heartbreaks,
high school victories and schoolyard gossip.
I thumbed through old exams
and high school essays.
Mix-tapes and photo collages,
friendship bracelets and old movie ticket stubs.

And cards.
So many cards.
Dozens and dozens and dozens of cards.
Which is funny because, I write and send a lot of cards.
 I never really linked the boxes
filled with cards in my parents attic
to my present day pleasure
of writing someone a card.
I scanned old letters marked AIRMAIL
sent from my childhood friend in England.
I chuckled.
The updates we deemed worthy
of a cross-continental journey.
An inquiry about my doll,
sent over oceans and mountain ranges.
Funny; sweet.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
I wished every question
were as simple as such.
Birthday wishes from my grandparents -
long before I reached double digits.
Words of encouragement from my dad:
I'm so proud of the woman you are becoming.
'Just Because' notes, from my mom,
with water colored scenes of desert cacti,
and smiling kittens.
When did I grow from child to adult?
From handwritten cards
with googly eyed dinosaurs and juggling bears,
to emails, littered with entitlement
and laced with stubborn pride?
Did it happen overnight, under a full moon?
Or was it more gradual,
as the leaves changed and days shortened.
I considered it briefly,
shrugged my shoulders and began to
decide what stays and what goes.
What memories to keep,
and which to part with.
It was cathartic;
the flood of the past,
and then their quick release.
But I kept all the cards.
Every single one.
xo

To August, With Love

I always write of August. 

Likely because it is my birthday month, 

it is August during which I am most nostalgic and reflective. 

I think of stretches of summer days
spent in Maine with my family, 

and long lazy weekends at the beach with girlfriends. 

I have great memories of swapping stories
and sipping beers with friends, 

late into the humidity of the night back east.

Of sun burnt skin, salt water kayaking and backyard lounging.

A friend recently told me, I often update Big Moon Sky in moments of worry, or apprehension.

And to some extent, this is true.

It is easier for me to process moments of worry through writing, 

and so the blog becomes an outlet for those instances.

But it's all shooting stars and sunshine in this post folks! 

image is my own

This summer has been a real slam dunk. 

A string of weekends up in Tahoe -
barbecuing at the base of the river, 

night skies so bright with stars,
 I have to pinch myself to believe its real. 

Dancing in Golden Gate Park with my little sister, 

with flowers in our hair.and smiles on our faces.

Days with my toes dangling from the edge of a boat, 

cheering on friends and clinking glasses towards the sun.

Sunday cocktails and home cooked meals, enjoyed in the backyard of friends.

Nights filled with music and spontaneity - a new feature in my world. 

And goats. So many goats. 

I am quite content these days. 

A steady sunbeam of happy. 

A constant stream of giggles.

And its the best. 

xo