Among My Souvenirs

My adult children will cringe when they read this and see proof of their make-believe activity (running a carinderia). Either that, or they will demand that I look for writing subjects elsewhere. Their father and I have been cleaning out closets, sorting out piles of old papers stacked in folders, bags and boxes and removing as much clutter as we can. This “spring cleaning” has been going on for almost a month. We’ve tried to be hard-hearted in deciding what should be kept, what ought to be thrown away for good.

Each time I see one of the children’s scribbles, my heart flips over, and I’m a time-traveling mother all over again. I cannot date this “menu card” I found, but I think it is from the BT (before television) years. Our family of four managed without TV during our years in my grandma’s house in Lower Brookside. So my girls found other ways to occupy themselves.

In an old journal, I found this entry I wrote in August 1996 when Kimi, my eldest, was 11 and Ida, my youngest, nine:

Kimi wasted a small box of hotcake mix when she poured one and a half cups of water instead of just half a cup. We had to throw away the batter. I showed her the line for one half in the measuring cup. Well, she is at least learning the rudiments of cooking.

Ida is wearing my pink lacy hat. My printed magenta and blue scarf is tied around her neck like a cape. She is playing with small rectangles of paper that she cut out herself. She’s handling them like a deck of cards.

I love it when they’re quietly absorbed in play, their heads bent over a coloring book or a drawing. And then I can sneak to my bed and read some more.