Some of my most meaningful memories were made at random
Many of my most meaningful memories were made at random. Just me and a bunch of other nouns, bumping into and crossing each other’s paths. No planning, no stress, no expectations.
The most beautiful sweater
One such memory involves the finding of what would become my favorite sweater at an Elder’s Society “Garage Sale” of sorts. It was our first time attending. We went on a whim, really. The tables arranged throughout the hall were filled to bursting with tools, trinkets, housewares, books, gear and clothing. There was a pile of folded clothes on a table perched up on what must have been a stage.
I could see the sweater as I walked up the few short steps. It must have been what attracted me all the way to the back of the hall. Beautifully knitted, half-length sleeve, cool water blue with stripes of white gracefully crisscrossed throughout.
The lady watching over the table commented on the quality of the knit when I held it up. “That’s a fine sweater you found there. Well made by the looks of it.” She also told me the sale price of $0.50 per item. I couldn’t resist buying it, it practically called to me.
Turns out it was made for me, too. I find that when I wear that sweater in public people can’t help but approach me, seeming to go out of their way to pass me (the sweater) a compliment. It’s like they’re drawn to it. This sweater would likely have more followers on social media than myself, it’s wearer, the thing that brings it to life. But I honestly wouldn’t be surprised. It deserves the attention, and I’m happy to be its vessel.
If you are the maker of this sweater, please reach out to me (with proof, no weirdos please). I would absolutely love to thank you for your creation.
Well, hello there
On another occasion, I was at a forestry camp in a remote area of the Pacific Northwest of Canada, in a town called Holberg, BC. This was a relatively nice camp compared to the other options as it was actually designed as a camp, a space to house the rotation of forestry workers, so was equipped with things like a (mostly) functional kitchen, multiple bathrooms and showers, and a common area.
While in the common area one day looking for some rest and relaxation after a long day tromping through the forest, I gravitated toward a bookshelf that had a handwritten sign saying “Take a Book, Leave a book. -thanks.” There, staring at me straight on from the lower of the two shelves, Michael Crichton’s novel “Jurassic Park” (yes, it was a book – a phenomenal book – and it’s OK that you didn’t know this, but please rectify it as soon as possible).
I had watched the Stephen Spielberg movie of the same name in the theater with my dad. I have incredibly fond memories of that experience, particularly hearing the roar of the T-Rex through the exterior walls of the building as we waited in the line that wrapped around our local cinema. I honestly don’t know if those memories are real though, because I would have been six when it came out. (Though, I do very clearly remember going to watch Independence Day at 7 or 8 and making my family leave the cinema because I was so terrified of the aliens in the test tubes….*shivers*). So probably, yea, plus it would have been cheaper for my parents to bring us while we were young.
Anyways, I traded in the book I was reading and immediately set to reading my find. The book traveled with me for a couple of years until I foolishly lent it out to a co-worker and never saw it again. It was partly my fault for forgetting to ask about it before it was too late and the co-worker moved away. (Things seemed to move fast in the rotating doors of Forestry).
Since losing the book, I’ve always kept a corner of my eye open for it at any used book or thrift stores that I visit. Before you furrow your eyebrows at me and say: “Why didn’t you just buy a fresh copy at the bookstore you silly goose?”, you have to admit that there’s something about the hunt that is part of the experience.
It’s nice to see you my old friend
Jump forward ten years, to that same Elder’s Society “Garage Sale”. As we walked out with our loot in hand, we couldn’t help but poke through the treasure trove of books. (They cleverly arranged the book tables in a sort of tight maze to exit the building.)
The first table that I approached had, at the top of the tallest pile, a white softcover book with a T-Rex skeleton on the front. “Jurassic Park”, we are reunited at last! (Not the same book, of course – that would have been INSANE! – a different, equally beautiful copy). I held it up in astonishment and shouted out to the elders surrounding me, “A-Ha! I found it! I found it! It’s here!!” Flipping the cover around so they could see for themselves my incredible find. They somehow understood my triumph and cheered for me with big smiles and small claps.
Gifts from the universe
I believe that these are gifts from the universe. Even though I wonder how many of these special, yet insignificant moments I’ve passed by when I was otherwise hyper-focused on something likely unimportant, I hold dear the ones that have made it to my attention.
Cheers to the small things that have a lasting impact.
Another great article Sam. Honestly, you should be writing a novel. Put your talents to work and make a bundle of money.
Wonderful stories, Samantha! It’s so you, I can imagine being there with you and I feel your happiness and gratification. Thanks for bringing the smile to my face.