LuĂsa, my daughter, the second of the litter of three kittens, collected chocolate papers, organized as much as she, a Virgo.
The stretched packages, glued on bond paper, slipped inside the transparent plastics and stayed there, held by the silver hardware in a black catalog folder with the cover and back cover decorated.
Until another bonbon is tasted.
I see her folder separated among other things for donation discarded from the closet. She, grown up and a teenager, says she doesn't feel like collecting anymore.
Wow, daughter, so much work to put together these beautiful packaging and the thing ends like this?
Not a single nibble on a last good-bye candy?
That's it, mother!
By my utmost stubbornness, the slightly moldy folder is shelved to this day. saved. Never know.
Yeah, I know. Whoever keeps everything smacks even more than the folder.
Today, she collects key rings, she already has well over 800.
With each trip, hers, ours or that of friends, it's a fact: the tinkling of the rings in the collection increases.
Why did I keep the candy wrappers? For her or for me?
Probably from trying to stop time and always have you, girl, by my side.
My first collection – compulsory, it is a fact – started with bracelets.
Every May 14th, my birthday, my mother presented me with a silver bracelet. Decorated with delicate branches and flowers in relief. In different combinations each year.
As I grew up, the bracelets grew in quantity and diameter.
One day, at school, in the boredom of a history class, I started playing with one of the bracelets, when I had the creativity of a pinhead… and tlec! I fit the tenth grade bracelet between my two separated front teeth. The central incisors, of the upper arch!
With the bracelet wedged in the gap between my teeth, my attempt to remove the ring begins. I disguised myself for a long time. When I realized that it wouldn't let go, I didn't even have to warn the teacher, who noticed my soft crying.
I remember her face, static!
Searching, I now imagine, to decipher, and I think as I write, my look of despair that must have been somewhat like that of an Indian virgin bride on her wedding day: with a large hoop pierced in the brim of her nose!
In my case, in the teeth! With her gums swelling and the ring that neither she nor the director could take off.
He runs to call my mother, who was at work. And there wasn't even a cell phone to speed it up.
Fact. My mother must not have worried. Widow, responsible for two children and with creativity beyond measure, it was usual to be presented with unpleasant surprises.
The mother arrives. The blue gaze, the color of the sky on a summer day, changed to a blue-green, the color of the sea on a stormy day, faithfully translated into: “Wait for me, we'll talk at home, now let's solve it”.
My mother, always practical and proactive, within seconds asked if she would take me to the dentist or the jeweler.
Taxi! "Let's go to the jeweler to saw the bracelet so it doesn't damage it so much."
Like this? And I? The jeweler will break my teeth!
It did not break. She soldered the bracelet to perfection. I was grounded for a month.
And I never got a hoop bracelet again!
Sincerely? I didn't even call. It was already in another phase.
I collected, for fashion, figurines of football team players, I changed them at school, and I got tired.
As a teenager, I also collected candy wrappers. Love notes. Candy wrapper and even chewing gum that my boyfriend chewed I collected. I'm tired.
As an adult, I collected dreams, impossible expectations. I'm tired.
I collected emotional and physical pain from lack of stretching and undisciplined exercises. I'm tired.
I don't collect things anymore. I share. Truths and good feelings.
The folder from my daughter LuĂsa's chocolate collection? It's still in my office. Well remembered, I will donate.
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Our soul is most connected to the body when the mind vibrates in detachment.
I want to vibrate, quiet, here, be, I just want to mind, let go.
accessible hugs
