Wednesday, July 18, 2012

The things we carry . . .



Oh, the things we carry to define who we are.

There was a time that she knew she was NEVER going to carry a purse.  Her father, grandpa, uncles and boy cousins didn’t have purses.  But all the women around her did, carry purses they did.

SHE needed to keep her hands free, to be able to grab on, to explore, to find things, to dig up things, to put up her fists in case of a fight – who knows what she might have to do to save the day?!  Everything you needed was in your hands, in how quick you could figure things out-use your brain! and be ready for anything.  Strong arms, strong legs - she could outrun or chase down anyone and anything.  Purses tied up one hand and slowed you down.  Pockets were your friend and you could stuff all you needed into them.


THEY wore high heels and could not run or skip down the street, wearing tight straight skirts and then they would have to sit with their knees together.  She was told early on – good girls knew how to sit properly with knees together and ankles crossed and hands in your lap.  No siree, none of that for her.  And so for years she carried only what she needed in her pockets, because the needs were different then.  Always ready.  The freedom she defined by not becoming the accessory to her life.

When did life become so full, so busy beyond what could be handled with just your bare hands?  Pockets so small.  Even pants without pockets now.  And somewhere, over time, over the softening, the knowing, the need that comes with life, she found that life was a balancing act – and her purse became her toolkit - keep those meds close at hand, eye drops, chapstick, lipstick, smart phone, credit cards, glasses, sunglasses, instant coffee, teabags, pens, pencils, highlighter, flash drives, and of course, 3x5 notecards.  Always ready.

Oh, the things we carry to define who we are.



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