There must be a "How to Pack Efficiently and Pause Free" manual somewhere. Aside from the physical breaks one must take from packing to move, there are the occasional stops along Memory Lane which can bring the momentum to a screeching stop and smell the roses halt.
Packing up the colored ceramic dishware my mom painted for me reminded me of the day I opened the UPS box she sent. Not only did it have the dishware but it had colored place mats and colored tapers with square holders. What a thoughtful gift! She knew I like to make a pretty table at meal time and there she sent me another excuse for preparing good food.
I came across a card written in elegant penmanship from my much missed godmother, Aunt Dolly, who passed on this last December. For as long as I can recall receiving mail, she had been sending me a birthday and Christmas card every year. Something was missing in December.
Oh! and the photo of me holding a carrot with the utmost tips of my fingers for a horse to eat. Gingerbread Man became my good friend and trusted teacher who welcomed me into the horse world. What a bond we shared.
My poor backgammon board. It has been tucked away, lonely, at one point a reminder of lamentable sportsmanship. I always loved playing board games. Naturally, I would play to win and I play by the rules and I insist on being the banker in Monopoly, but having fun was always the priority. I prefer playing tennis with someone better than I so I can play hard and work for a win. If I didn't win, which in all these years of game playing, there were many times, I laughed, congratulated the winner and either set up for a rematch or moved on to whatever I was doing next. I saw no point in any resentment or anger or frustration with losing. It was a game!
In the early months of our dating, I would hear the stories of the backgammon marathons at the hospital. They played at such an expert level because their minds thought this way. I enthusiastically initiated a game because it had been a while since I had played, but when my much beloved backgammon board was opened, I felt the foreboding of a helpless loss. The problem was, I didn't lose. In fact, the game never was finished because the spike in heart rate that my advantage brought about, also brought about a slamming shut of the board with pieces flying all over. What a shock!
My game companion was only opened another time or two and the experience was so opposite of the fun I brought to the table that it seemed disrespectful to my board to unclip the buckles again. So there it stayed, in a closet, move after move.
But this move is different. My backgammon board will hide no more! And I welcome anyone to a fine roll of the dice.
