It's a plastic tube ... with a bunch of sea shells in it ... there's some bits & pieces of colored coral ... for good measure. I found it ... somewhere in the house ... while de-cluttering.
A souvenir ... most likely ... a reminder ... of life ... at the beach. So I tossed it casually into the box of things I was going to sell on ebay a month or so ago.
Took the picture ... posted it ... along with the assorted items of the day ... the week ... the month. It has been amusing to me ... what things actually ... SELL ... on ebay.
Jessi wandered in ... poking through the box of stuff that I was trying to send to a new home ... quickly, she grabbed up the tube of shells saying,
"You can't put that on ebay! It's Abbi's!"
I shook my head. I was pretty sure it wasn't Abbi's. I haven't been into any of her stuff ... most of it is buried three rows deep in the garage ... behind the collections of things that came over from Aunt Julia's last year.
Agitated. Emphatic. She took the little tube of shells ... shook it ... and stomped down the stairs with it. Later I noticed that she had put it in the top of a box of things I was setting aside for Abbi to go through next time she visited ... things she could decide to claim as treasures or relinquish forever.
Not too much time passed before Abbi breezed through for a quick visit. She rummaged through the box of things ... picked out a couple of items ... and left the rest. Now of these were "special" things ... just random stuff that had been surfacing in the de-cluttering process.
I noticed that she had returned the plastic tube full of shells to the box.
"Jessi says that's yours," I told her.
She looked puzzled & shook her head, "Nope. Not mine"
"She was very adamant about it," I went on. "It is important to her. She rescued it from the ebay box and put it in your box."
Abbi said no it wasn't hers ... she hadn't ever seen it before ... and she really didn't need or want ... a "retail" package of shells.
She has plenty of shells ... of her own.
We both smiled ... at Jessi and her ways. Of course, we didn't get it. We don't see things like Jessi.
So I took the items that weren't important back to the ebay pile. And once again, Jessi calmly ... but firmly ... retrieved the tube of shells. She did it without me knowing it. Next thing I knew, the tube of shells were back in Abbi's box ... waiting for her next visit.
For a couple of weeks, we played the shell game ... Jessi and I. I'd take them upstairs. She'd bring them downstairs. I'd take them back upstairs. Once I listed them again ... I put them in the closet with the other items that were waiting to be purchased.
"Where's Abbi's kaleidoscope?" Jessi asked one evening.
Puzzled, I said I didn't know what she was talking about or where to look for it. And I was totally floored by the word ... kaleidoscope.
"Abbi's kaleidoscope ... WHERE IS IT?!?" Jessi demanded. "It's not in the box."
Looking around, I realized she was looking in the upstairs box I bring things to before I listed them on ebay. Again, I said, "I haven't seen a kaleidoscope. I don't know what you are talking about, Jessi."
Frustrated, she said, "Mom. It's Abbi's kaleidoscope. I made it for her. She has to have it. It's important."
Then it dawned on me. The plastic tube of shells ... it was a kaleidoscope. Jessi made it for Abbi. It was plain as day to her ... what it was ...
It was me ... who didn't SEE it ... the same way Jessi saw it.
Heading into the closet, I brought it out. "Is this it?" I asked.
"Yes! It's Abbi's kaleidoscope. I made it for her ... with shells from the beach ... she loves the beach, Mom ..." that's what Jessi said, and then ... "See ... when you turn it, Mom ... everything changes ... and then it looks different."Together we placed the kaleidoscope in Abbi's box ... awaiting her next visit.
I have spent hours thinking about that kaleidoscope. And how out-of-focus I allow myself to get at times. I have looked at it from every angle ... and on the bottom ... are Jessi's initials ... "JS" ... to be sure that no one else at the workshop claimed her handiwork.
On days when I have been here by myself, I have picked up that simple tube of shells & coral. I have turned it ... shook it up ... pondered the bits & pieces ... the fragments of the beach ... which in our house ... will always be reminders ... of other things ... memories of a past life ...
And it occurs to me, that maybe I have been trying too hard to make all of my puzzle pieces fit into a new picture ... somehow. Instead of collecting them in one place ... and letting them ebb & flow ... on their own .. in response to what life is showing me ... at any given time.
Once I asked for a NEW puzzle ... and Abbi made me one. She wrote the words ... describing the pieces of me ... that I was wanting to hang on to ... on little slips of paper ... and embedded them in a crystal ball of glitter.
It was cool and insightful ... the perfect gift for my healing heart.
And here ... in the little plastic tube ... was Jessi's attempt ... to do the same for Abbi.
Abbi came this week. She left with the kaleidoscope ... that her sister made for her ... full of love & pieces of the beach.
The pieces will shift around ... each time she picks it up ... and it will never look the same twice. The pieces all belong inside, though ... they are what make up the kaleidoscope ...in the first place ... making it vital & precious.
Without all of the bits & pieces ... the fragments ... brightly colored coral ... along with the plain, unadorned shells ... it would have no meaning.
Jessi is right. It is important. She teaches me things ... fresh & new ... when she demands that I see things through her eyes ... all of the time.
Today, when I picked up Jessi's boyfriend to join us for parade watching & a Thanksgiving feast with family later ... he was asking about how Jessi was doing after her medical procedure this week.
Bless his heart. He has been so worried. Is there a chance she will die?!?! He had asked last week. I assured him there was no chance of anything like that. Then yesterday when she showed up with some humongous safety glasses on ... underneath her regular glasses ... he almost lost it.
"Is she blind?!?" he asked urgently.
I had to smile ... because she is most definitely ... NOT blind!
Neither one of us have a clue where she got those safety glasses ... she thought they were a cool touch to her "rock star" outfit for the talent show.
This morning, we talked about how there was nothing wrong with her ... it was just a pro-active procedure ... but that there was a little bit of soreness & tenderness ... and that he should be patient with her for a few days.
He became very quiet ... as we drove along ... gazing reflectively out the window. Then he turned to me and said, "You know, MaryJane, when things are healing ... it has to hurt some, too. That's how you know it's healing."
Jessi's not blind. She sees things we don't see. And Donald ... well, at times I am positive that he is the wisest man I have ever met.
Today ... things hurt ... that's how I know there is healing.
... there's a time for everyone
if they only learn
that the twisting kaleidoscope
moves us all in turn ...
(c) November 2011
