~walking forward in faith to find it~

I spent the greater part of the day doing a task that was long overdue.  A huge storage container, one that moved from Kansas to Colorado and then onto the plains of Texas with me, has sat in the corner of the closet in the spare bedroom just waiting for me to go through it.  It's been one of those out of sight/out of mind possessions of mine and this morning I thought it was as good a time as any to go through it and decide what, if anything, I really wanted to keep.

We have lived in this house for well over 2 years now.
It was about time.

When I took the lid off this morning, I wasn't sure what I would come across inside.  I do recall the day back in Hutchinson when I was trying desperately to get the last of my things packed and moved to Montrose.  I came across the contents of the tub in my bedroom back there in the house on East 14th Street.  I knew that I really shouldn't keep it all, but I didn't have the heart to throw it away that day.  So I did the only thing I knew to do when faced with little time left.

I just put the lid back on and took it with me.
In 5 years' time, I'm not sure I ever really opened it, let alone went through it.

As I dug through the layers of stuff inside, plenty of memories came back to greet me.  Pictures, letters, cards, newspaper clippings, obituary announcements, and a variety of trinkets that really had no other place to go could be found nestled deep inside.  Little by little, I took everything out and sorted through it, stopping to read the messages that had been left over the course of the last 40 years or so.  I couldn't believe all the things that I had deemed important enough to keep, and much of it really had far outlived its usefulness.  The kitchen trash can had to be emptied 3 times before I finished but at last I was done.

As I was getting ready to put the lid back on the storage container, I happened to notice an envelope on my desk that hadn't been taken care of.  As I reached for it, I caught sight of the return address written in a scrawl I recognized as my very own.  Reading the words that I had written was a sweet memory of a young girl from "the land of long ago, and far, far away."

It's been a long time, as a matter of fact 42 years of a long time, since I was called "Miss Peggy Scott".  To see my name there, a reminder of who I was before I got married and started out on my own was kind of strange feeling.  For the life of me, I cannot tell you why.  It just seemed strange, that's all.  The return address of Rt. 1-Haven, KS  67543 reflects where home always was.  Our family lived on a country road just south of town in an old 2-story farmhouse that only 3 weeks after I got married in 1976, burned to the ground.   It was a great house to live in all during my high school and college years.  My bedroom was upstairs and faced back to the north.  In the late evening hours of the summertime, I'd lay in bed at night and listen to a portable radio that always brought in KOMA out of Oklahoma City or WLS out of Chicago nice and clear.  The songs of the '70's played into the wee hours of the morning but my mom and dad never cared about the noise.  My folks were just that way.  Oklahoma City was a good 4 hour drive from home in south central Kansas but with the radio on, it was as if I was right  there. I'd imagine what it would be like to actually go to places like that when I was older, and I dreamed about what life would be like in my future.

Little did I know the places it would take me.

I found a picture earlier this morning as well, one that I'd forgotten having, that was actually my senior picture in high school.  45 years have gone by since I posed for that photograph over in a portrait studio in Buhler, Kansas and the young girl that I used to be looks so much different than the 62-year old woman I am today. 

The 17-year old girl that I used to be was quiet and kind of shy, with waist length long brown hair that was perpetually parted right down the middle.  My blue eyes were set in a gaze somewhere across the room.  I'm not sure why I wasn't smiling for the picture.  Perhaps it was one of the somber and serious pose moments.  There were no wardrobe changes or your own choice of different backdrops or props like is the practice of today.  You just walked in, hoped your hair looked decent, and the photographer took your photo.  There wasn't any need for me to check my make-up, because I never wore it then nor do I today.  Long ago, my dad told me something that ended up saving me a whole lot of time and whole lot of money.  To this day, I remember his fatherly admonition and thank him for telling me.

"Peggy Ann, you are pretty enough without putting that makeup stuff on.  You don't even need to wear it."  And since my father said it, I believed him.

Finding the picture and my name in the return address on the back of an old envelope took me way back in time.  That young girl who would not get married for 3 1/2 years after high school was completed, had an interesting life ahead, but she had no idea of where it was taking her.  At that time,  I couldn't have imagined being a mature woman who was nearly 63 years old.  I'm sure that back then I would have likened my current age to "wow, that's old."  

From a farmhouse on an old Reno County country road to a home along the Red River in northern Texas, I have to say it's been a great life.  I'm closer to the end than to the beginning these days, but that's not a concern.  The future is still ahead of me and I walk forward in faith each day to find it.