Wednesday a big truck is going to back into my driveway.  Young, strong men will carry boxes and start filling the big truck with couches, chairs, beds – all of it in a truck.  It will seem anti climatic to have it done so unceromoniously.  There will be no indication that I have touched each item, maybe teared up while wrapping a vase created just for me by  friend who is long passed.  The Mr. and I stood arms folded, brows furrowed discussing a few items-will that go in the new house? Where did it come from, anyway?  Should we keep it for sentimental reasons, even if we can’t see it working in the new town house?  And then, I saw this:

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How simple is that?   Our environmnet has the potential to not just influence us visually-but touch our soul.    So,  the 52  year old sweater my oldest brother sent me from Scotland is in-I would take a photo, but it is already packed.  I only wear it about once a year-but when I do-it reminds me of a different time.  My brother was just a boy when he went off to serve in the Navy-a high school graduate at 16.  In the little country school where he received his early education, they just kept moving him up a grade-never thinking, “what will this boy do as a 16 year old high school graduate?”   He did the only thing he knew to do-he signed up for the Navy.

Once I got the whole “nourish your soul” thing in my mind-I spent way too much time going through my memory box-a sturdy, pretty box with a label:  memories.  It is filled it with cards of all sorts, but I particularly loved the thank you notes.  It validated the choices I had made when I said yes to things that my busy schedule suggested I give an emphatic, “NO!”  And, of course, notes/cards from my children and grandchildren.  I took pictures of a lot of the cards, but have kept those that nourished my soul to overflowing.  Here is an example:

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The tiny hand of my now 18 year old granddaughter who has grown into a gracious and beautiful young woman.  But I have this little memory to take me back to the time she and I sat at a table and traced the outline of our hands.  Nourish my soul, indeed.