Sunday
Jun202010
Out of the Box
June 20, 2010 * * * * * Posted by: Marcie 
After all of these years – I didn’t think that I’d actually kept it. The evidence. The stuff of life that gives rhyme and reason to who I once was..who I am today..and who I might still someday be. A snapshot of a younger girl and life.
Because she’s in the process of creating her own portfolio of work done in college, my daughter asked to see mine. For a moment – I didn’t think I dared to go back to that place in time..afraid of what might be long forgotten and buried..afraid to be reminded…afraid of all I might find. Dreams – fulfilled? Or dreams - abandoned and forgotten? So much of life spent looking forwards – reaching..stretching..growing. So little time spent looking back.
What might I find..if I dared to open this particular box?? Right here..right now..and with my daughter?
There it sits collecting dust on a very high shelf. Above and beyond anyone’s reach or wandering questioning gaze. In a place that is safe, but not forgotten. A place that still exists inside of me..but nowhere else. How could I tell her that I no longer had it when it is so clearly marked ‘School Portfolio’? How could I answer her searching questions without giving myself away?
Together - we pulled it out from among the cobwebs and brushed away the years of dust. Knowing that what lay within held fragile bits that might easily break, we carefully removed the cover and opened it all up. And together – we took a ride back in time. She – getting a picture of who I was before I was her mother. Me - looking backwards at my younger self from my younger days.
I’d forgotten. Wherever you go there you always are. I like to think that who and what I am is constantly evolving and changing, so it came as somewhat of a surprise to me to find that I'm the same as I've always been. Perhaps it’s been the years of raising children..the juggling..the building of a professional practice…the meeting of everyone else’s needs long before my own. Perhaps it’s what life does..when life does happens Or perhaps – it’s something much more than that..or something much less. Perhaps I’d gotten myself lost along the way..and am now very slowly finding an older and more evolved, but oh-so-familiar version of who I once was. Comfortable in a skin that I’ve always worn..but one that I’d shed for so many years in exchange for a safe other.
There they were. Drawing after drawing. Carefully rendered plans and elevations…all done in pen and ink. Well thought out solutions to the hypothetical studio design problems that were never intended to see the light of day. Artwork. Sketches. Photographs. Brochures and other graphic design work done along the way. Caligraphed invitations and announcements. Something I did to earn some extra money in those days when I had nothing else. All done by hand long before the days of technology and computers.
She wanted to see each and every piece…each and every illustration. She went thru things carefully..trying to absorb and take it all in along the way.
'So –this WAS my mother? This IS?'
'This is what she did..when she was my age? Before she was married? Before she had me?'
I could hear the wheels of her mind turning..asking questions that she’d never thought or dared before to ask.
She got what she came looking for. Answers to her questions. An example of a portfolio put together long before this digital age. A direction – perhaps? – as to where it is she might be going, if she chooses to follow this similar path. A little more insight and knowledge as to who this woman was and is. The one who she only knows as ‘mom’. Her mother. She thanked me – for letting her in..for letting her see.
And I – in turn – had to thank her for being she. Grateful for the gift and opportunity to have opened up and looked inside a box that I otherwise never would. Grateful to have done this together. Not nearly as scarey nor as disappointing as I had anticipated it to be. There – sitting high up amidst the cobwebs and dust is just plain ol’…same ol’…simple ol’ me.
Reader Comments (18)
This one makes me cry ... it's beautifully told and touches on so many of my own tender places that I can't get out much more here than to say thank you and this ...
I've been struggling with beginning a new writing project that feels as if it is a major part of my purpose, but it holds so much emotion that the words so far exist only in snippets on cards and paper. The longer larger pieces still live in my head in a well woven weave of almost completed work, but I have not been able to commit them to any place more whole and permanent than my memory. I've gone back and forth in front of my computer screen the last few days avoiding this work that I know is important for me to do. If fact yesterday, I had a severe crisis of indecision as whether I should even write it, but I know what that is really about ... and I know why it's important to move past it. Your post today helped make the decision to go forward easier. It's as if the universe whispered a message through you and said, Elizabeth ... sit down and open the box.
Thank you for a lovely piece of inspiration this morning.
I love, love, love that image and your words are equally beautiful. Thanks for sharing
I wish I had a box like that, Marcie, in which I had kept all my artwork. Well, maybe not, because it wasn't prolific or very good. I do have files of my letters Mom and Dad kept over the years (which I brought with me to Holland), and one day maybe I'll read them all. But for now, you have reminded me of the huge portfolio of artwork Astrid showed me once, about 2 years ago. I sat there totally stunned. My jaw was on the floor. Most of it was classwork assignments...all pieces of technical art. It is a side of her that shouldn't surprise me one whit but it does. It's like...how can anyone be that good??? My suspicion is this is exactly how your daughter saw your work! BEFORE autocad and all the computer technology, you were doing that beautiful work. I absolutely know this is what we all would have seen if we had been privy to that box. Thanks for sharing such a sweet, touching mother-daughter story.
Lovely Marcie - story and photo. Great reason to keep those special boxes. Sharing time comes 'round sooner or later.
Hey Marcie....nothing "simple" about any of this, more like an amazing moment for both you & your girl that will always be remembered. I would imagine that box held some incredible things. I'm glad you wrote about this but probably not half as much as Elizabeth, what a help you have been to her in just this one post....it all goes around.
I am in love with this photo, amazing! And once again, you have mirrored so much of my own feelings lately, the looking back, the rediscovering. What a wonderful, perfect way for your daughter to see you as someone other than her mother, as the woman you were and are outside of that special relationship. I am sure it is a gift that she will cherish always.
The ghosts of the past are haunting you too, I see. It all feels like a (good) dream now.
I was never an artist but I do have all my old photos in boxes which I refer to as my memory box.
Such a lovely post :-)
Okay, first, GORGEOUS photo! Second, you had me crying (as I was driving down the road at 75 mph ... yes, I was driving, but I was the only one on the road). I can understand the trepidation you felt in sharing your portfolio with E, but what a wonderful opportunity for you to share a part of yourself that she didn't know, a wonderful opportunity for you two to grow closer together, just freaking awesome!
What a beautiful story, and you describe your feelings so very well. It moved me deeply!! Thanks for that. I adore the Bokeh in your photo, incredibly beautiful!!!
beautiful. a simple beautiful exercise in self discovery for both of you.
A very beautiful story Marcie. I too have a memory box. I have old photos, postcards , letters, tickets and many other things in it. Sometimes I just sit and look trough it for a while.
Marcie~ What can I say? Your image on this post is so beautiful. And the image I have of you & your daughter looking through the box is making my heart swell. Thank you for sharing your story.
firstly, what a gorgeous picture!!!! a beautiful moment so well caught. i loved your post, as i always do :) over the years i've found stuff of my mother's hidden away, haven't had her there to share the moment with, but it hasn't made the moment sad as such; poignant and bittersweet but lovely nevertheless.
When you write I always feel like I am present with you, in that moment. I can see and feel and hear...and nearly smell you and your daughter examine the box of memories.
Just before we moved, my son and daughter-in-law and I went up to our attic and looked through "stuff." The conversations held while sorting through the "stuff" were very special. It's nice to know -- in a way kind of affirming to know -- that they care about that "stuff."
Your "out of the box" photo is pretty special too! :)
this was such a beautiful account of mother and daughter and a changing relationship between them....
growing a friendship
seeing each other in a new way
and seeing yourself in a new way as well.
loved reading it.
Marcie, I very much enjoyed this poignant story of trust and rediscovered hopes. You and your daughter sound like you do very well together. I think it's important for children to know their parents as the people they were and are, apart from being parents, and you gave each other quite a gift by dusting off that portfolio.
Beautiful story Marcie. I think it is great that you did share this with your daughter; it gives her a chance to see her mom as she sees herself.