I was going to write a post about the amazing week we have had and that post is coming.† But now I need to write about ëjunkí.

For as long as I can remember my Mother and Daddy collected junk.† I called it junk, my parents called it discovered treasures.† You name it, they collected it.† My Daddy collected old toys, lunchboxes, cookie jars, furniture, putters, marbles and on and on and on.† Mother loved jewelry, glassware, old linens and more.

You would think that if for no other reason besides osmosis, I would love old things.† But I totally went the other way.† I loved modern and stark whites and bold splashes of color.† Old things held no appeal for me.

My mother always smiled and said, ìOne day you will appreciate them moreî.† And as with most things, she was right. †While I donít collect things I do appreciate the beauty in something hand stitched 100 years ago or a beautiful piece of furniture.

For 40 years they collected.† They spent hours upon hours ëjunkingí as they called it.† They traveled across the country in search of their treasures.† Since my Mother died, Daddy hasnít ëjunkedí very much.† Now that he has remarried he is back doing it, but not with the excitement I used to see on his face.

He has 4 huge building filled with his ëjunkí.† Throughout the years he would show me various things and tell me what a great deal he got on something and how much it was ëreally worthí.† I would always say the same thing, ìIt isnít worth anything sitting in this building!î.† I just didnít understand it.

Daddy decided to have a huge yard sale this weekend.† The buildings filled with junk just happen to be in our backyard since we are living at my Motherís house since Daddy remarried.† I have watched them pull out boxes and boxes just shaking my head at the vast array of ëjunkí.

Yesterday afternoon I finally got it.† I watched Daddy walk around and gently touch a small figurine or pick up an old tablecloth.† A little smile would come over his face and I knew he was thinking about my Mother; where they were when they bought this, maybe a joke they shared, maybe a touch of a hand.† All of a sudden I understoodÖ.it wasnít so much about the ëjunkí, it never was. It was about the ‘journey’, the laughter, the love, the excitement.

It was about the memories createdÖ

I miss my Mother so much today…

Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose. ~From the television show The Wonder Years