Friends in a stockpot

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I just received a wonderful gift.  I was cleaning the house and walked by an antique enamel stockpot that I fill with holiday greetings, postcards, birthday wishes, etc. that we have been the fortunate recipients of over the past years.  It’s been a long time since I actually looked inside the pot.  Since I was cleaning and was happy to find a diversion, I sat down and popped off the top.  A mountain of cards, letters, diary pages, photos, well-wishes and secrets poured onto the table.  As I revisited the contents of each card and letter, I was brought back to different points in my life that had seemed to lose their crispy edges over the years -birthdays, vacations, road trips, engagements, marriages, broken hearts, losses, babies, laughter, confessions, and spontaneous cartoons and how-do-you-do’s that were sent by a gaggle of the most wonderful people that I have had the priveledge to call friends and family.  I forget, sometimes, how deep those ties run.  Memories that were nearly forgotten are now back in vivid display in the front of my mind and an overwhelming sense of gratitude is bubbling up inside me.  I am grateful for my dumb luck in being put in the right place at the right time – to have been able to not only meet this large but intimate group of creative, caring, soulful people, but to have been included in their journeys.  At a time when we all seem to be so very busy with the lives that we have been called to live, my stockpot remains a contstant reservoir of personal histories and a symbol of love and caring.  I will remember to visit those friends that I keep in my stockpot more often and look forward to the next drawings, cards, and updates that will be added to it in the future.

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