That Old Suitcase

Seems I bitch a lot these days. Don't get me wrong, I've got plenty that makes me smile as well but the bad stuff is just magnified now. I'm hoping it's temporary because I'm starting to annoy myself a little.

Happiness is...

watching Bella sleep and watching her little paw and tail twitch like she's chasing something.

having a ladybug crawl all over you and just being content.

looking into the eyes of someone who loves you and seeing your love reflected a hundredfold.

a new apartment and blank canvas on which to create your own masterpiece.

a warm embrace and a soft voice saying, "I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay."

Early Friday morning, someone broke into my car. They ransacked the glove box, the middle console and rifled through my loose change and papers. They left a blender, mechanical wine opener, yoga mat, a dress and a pair of shoes - all of which was waiting to make its way to my new apartment - lying, untouched, on the floor of the passenger's side. I popped the trunk and everything looked in place. At first glance I only noticed the mess. Then I realized, they took my make-up bag!! I bitched and moaned about how expensive make-up is. So, in a an effort to turn a negative experience into a positive one, I went shopping yesterday and splurged on the more expensive brands and decided I'd pamper myself. I came home with a smile on my face and felt an unfamiliar feeling...HAPPINESS.

As I was laying in bed this morning, I started thinking about the days events and how I needed to make sure I hit my storage unit before they closed at 1:45. I still have boxes of memories, from cleaning out my parent's house, taking up space in my apartment. And of course, my grandfather's old suitcase in my trunk full of my old Barbies, Strawberry Shortcake dolls, baby dolls, odds and ends from my childhood and most importantly, a note from my Dad stating how I was truly a joy "Love, Daddy". That suitcase held my childhood and a lifetime of memories that I hoped to share with my kids someday. I jumped out of bed, ran outside and popped my trunk. At second glance I realized there WAS something missing from the trunk. The suitcase. Remnants that it was there were still fresh in the trunk and in my mind. Old pieces of tattered leather were present on a old white towel laying close by.

You see, I've left pieces of my heart scattered all over the place in the past 34 years. And today, I'll never forget standing out on the street, in tears, when it hit me. *crash*



How strange to put a price on material and tangible things like make-up and mourn the loss of such a "necessity" (read:sarcasm) when something so precious and priceless has been taken from you.

And such is life.