Tuesday, January 12, 2016


"My mother’s brother gave my father a box of dirt for Christmas."...
"He started renovating the backyard, in the shadow of the fort that still stands, the fort built by him and my father. He took this backyard dirt, and he put it in a box on which he wrote the latitude and longitude. On top of the box he put a spoon and a brush. In front of everyone, my father spooned through the dirt, the dirt from his old backyard. In the dirt was an ashtray he made with his 10 year old hands, carved with his initials. A plastic army figurine. The lid to a tin of coffee opened nearly 50 years ago. A marble. These things that lay under the dirt for decades, forgotten but present. This excavation of the past. How lucky to be in a room, 50 years later, surrounded by people who knew what all this meant."

A charming story from petitchou via crashinglybeautiful. If you follow the link and get the back-story its even better. His mom and dad had grown up living next door to each other. All the siblings were friends.

No comments: