Securing Memory

The keyword for this month’s writing option was treasure. Hmmm....What things or qualities do I treasure? My vision. Cataract surgery is coming up soon. My sons. Always a joy despite a few bumps in the road. My independence. For so many reasons that would take too many words for this short piece. My career. A trajectory I am still loving each day. My friends. Always ready with laughter and deep experience to share. 

And then there is a good coffee cup ~ pottery, china, ceramic. A mug that holds tea, coffee, hot soup, herbal tea or the ginger hot concoction when a cold virus intrudes.

A cup or mug that fits my hand. Holds just enough hot delicious liquid, but not too little or too much. Rather similar to the porridge in the Goldilocks story ~ just the right amount. The curved ear from rim to belly of the mug for my fingers to ‘get a grip’.

When all of those details are satisfied, which cup I select depends on the day or time. Each mug holds a special memory as the satisfying warmth seeps into my hand. A real and tactile release of memories. Is the treasure the cup or mug, or is it the memory? Does the warm drink early in the morning harken back to summer mornings on the farm? Later years, a holiday for a family visit? Or is the treasure a tangible link to the security of family and growing up through the soil of life.  My mugs ~ each of them a treasure. And not to forget my tea cups and saucers filled with apple orchards and lanes. Laying a table for Sunday dinners when my young hands touched the very plates, cups and suacers that rest quietly in my cupboard. They wait patiently for these much older hands to set a table for a meal shared with today’s friends or family. 

Treasures are many things. Only some are monetary treasures and are such a tiny piece of life, even though money threatens to consume each day. Chests of gold, silver and jewels piled and spilling onto a Persian rug are beautiful to see (and yes I wouldn’t mind having some.). Money, stashed in banks solid as Gringott’s at Hogwarts protected by dwarfs, or maybe just in the bank down the street, does have a certain appeal for me. I am a solitary person and always have been. Shy and aloof in my crowded family of nine or in crowds of friends and colleagues, but when my hands gently wrap around the warm cup - with coffee, tea or herbs - family or friends automatically swirl up to me with the aroma from the mug welcoming me home, telling me that I am safe and secure.

“There is all the difference in the world between treasure and money.”
~ Roderick Townley, The Great Good Thing