Object of My Affection
There are many 'things' that I've had in my life and lost - sometimes they wear out, sometimes we out grow them. Sometimes they get broken, stolen or just plain lost. Sometimes when you are fleeing for your life and sanity you leave things behind. They are, after all, just things. Not all things can be replaced, and many will hold a close place in our hearts long after they are gone.
Holli challenged us on her blog, A Life Less Ordinary, to think about the 'object of my affection'. You should stop by and read about her friend, Fuzzy.
I'm looking around my house, and there are many things with stories. Some grand. Some small. Some barely there. Some I've carried around through many moves, repaired, cleaned and cherished. One of them is my Maneki Neki that I brought home from my first trip to Hawai'i when I was 13.
It now sits in my china cabinet, by the kitchen table. Next to my Celtic Angel and the Christmas dishes. She didn't always have such a safe place to rest. When I first got her I didn't realize she wasn't made of durable materials, her clay based form is quite fragile. She traveled thousands of miles in a suitcase, in the somewhat careful hands of airline employees. She lived on a shelf which was thought to be too high for the real cats to each.
That perception was literally shattered one night as the crossed eyed peach point Persian, Paul Newman, crashed her off her shelf. In her pieces on the floor she looked so sad. I was heart broken. I was really angry. That CAT wrecked my special cat. I could have cried, but instead I went to find the glue. I sat on the floor for over an hour gluing her back together.
Neki has moved with me nine times, and has so far, not only stayed together (good old Elmer's glue!) but has also been a constant object of my affection. She has survived winter U-haul moves, a temporary abandonment and subsequent storage unit stay. She has been in cars, in trucks, on shelves and held in hands of all sizes.
If you look close you can see the cracks, you can see where her paint is a bit dull, the glitter a bit tattered but her upraised paw beckons still. Her eyes still grace a feline smiling face. She is still an object of my affection.
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