I was compelled to enter my attic in search of some records. I found them and fulfilled my duty but not until I had done just a bit of sentimental journeying. Some old photos: airplanes, (naturally), boyfriends, local ‘scapes and yours truly. “Wasn’t I a dish?” I love that line delivered by the old woman in the movie “Titanic”, when she views an artist’s rendering of her nineteen year old self. I found my birth certificate, folded and faded nearly beyond recognition. Am I getting so old that records of my arrival are dissipating with the years? No, couldn’t be! They used poor quality ink then.
I read an old love letter and the words, “We can fit into their world, but can they fit into ours?”.
And then I stopped myself, but not until I glanced at numerous boxes and mentally apprised their content. Scads of photos, (back before the digital era) loose and in albums. Letters, cards, articles, hundreds of records of pilot exams given, my low level waivers for airshow performances, airshow flyers and pilot logbooks (my fathers and mine).
It’s going to take days to ramble through the memories those boxes contain as I fondle each article and taste the sentiment it offers. I want to do so purposefully and completely. There’s a lot of boxes and I thought, “Wow, I’ve lived a really full life.” I have a feeling that several chapters are in my attic. Just need to take a deep breath in preparation for the emotional dredging and unearthing, roll up my sleeves and dig in. Soon very soon…..