A small room on the south side of our house used to be a bedroom for Bruce’s aunts when they were growing up here. I believe that earlier it had been a porch, perhaps on some other structure. There were windows on each end, but it lacked light enough for houseplants, which is what Bruce had in mind, so when we moved in, we installed skylights and small windows on the south. I generally take my coffee to the sunroom and light a candle while contemplating the day. This is the room where prayers are offered for family and friends, and guidance is sought.
Winter doldrums threaten me as the sun starts to go south, but the antidote is always gratitude. I counted my blessings today. The sunroom is full of small reminders of people who are important to me. It contains exactly fifty-seven items which were gifts from family members and precious friends. Angel figurines from Bruce, little tokens on windowsills, plants, and the pots they live in, framed poems and prayers, prisms to catch the sun, a dreamcatcher, feathers, wheat braids, an angel cross stich made by my ninety-year-old cousin, who struggled with arthritic hands for her final years but never stopped creating beauty. There’s art from grandkids, as well as some of the greats, funny quotations, small stones, an abalone shell that my mom brought back from Tahiti, a lap quilt made by my sight impaired friend, a prayer shawl crocheted by my daughter, two kaleidoscopes, and a birdhouse sized outhouse. The outhouse is actually meant to be a birdhouse, but the friend who gave it to me suggested it would make a good God Box, so it holds small slips of paper with problems and worries written on them—the things I can’t change. My friend said nobody in their right mind would go fishing in an outhouse to take back anything dropped there.
That’s only a small sample of the treasures that won’t allow me much time on the pity pot. Funny thing; when I moved into Bruce’s space, I asked what the rules were. “Rules?” he asked.
“This is your space, and you’ve lived here a lot of years. I don’t want to be taking over.”
“Just don’t bring a lot of knick-knacks,” he said. I’ve never been one to collect many material things so that wouldn’t be a problem, right?
At least half of those little gratitude reminders were gifts from the no knick-knack guy. But who’s counting?