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When I was a little girl, I used to have this music/jewelry box. Now, I wasn’t the sort of girl who would NEED a music/jewelry box, but it was typically the gift to give little girls. I however, was a tomboy. When little girls were having tea, I was playing touch football with the guys, racing dirt bikes and crawling around in the dirt playing Army. Goodness knows my mother spent more time in the immediate care with all my cuts, bruises, scrapes and stitches, than she did combing my hair and putting pretty ribbons in it.
But one year, as a gift I got this music box. (I don’t even remember when or from whom that I got it.) It was very ordinary, just like any music box you’d see. It was wood on the outside and lined with pink satin on the inside. And when you opened it up, a little ballerina would pop up and twirl about to some enchanting music. Of all the little girl gifts I got (most not even remembered) this one was my favorite.
I have always had a very active imagination. I remember thinking that within this box was a whole world undiscovered. I had some vague notion similar to the story of the Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, that this music box was my portal to another world. In this world, I can remember thinking that we never went without. If there was a toy I wanted or a place I wanted to go, I had to only think it, and *poof* I’d be there, or I’d have the toy in my hand.
I remember dreaming of this music box, and in my dreams I would open it up and the room would be filled with rainbows and stars and all sorts of things to make you sigh in contentedness. Well things to make a little girl be happy ;) Oh how I loved to daydream about that box, and the world it contained, and I did so very often...
Until the day my grandmother died.
My grandmother was my creative maestro always cultivating my imagination and letting my wild stories take flight. Looking back now as an adult seeing through my child eyes, my grandmother always radiated light. As a child I could see it, as an adult I had forgotten it. I truly think that she was an angel. Her passing devastated me more than the loss of my brother at my side when I was adopted. (We were not adopted together). It was the saddest moment in my life when I lost her.
It was also the day I threw the music box away.
I closed the lid the day of the funeral, and the dancer disappeared. The rainbows and stars winked out of sight as I tossed the music box in the garbage mindless of the few notes it rang out trying to get my attention again; begging me to play. When I tossed it in the garbage that day, I said goodbye to my childhood imagination.
I grew up that day. I grew stronger (or so I thought) by being there for everyone else while my heart broke into a thousand pieces, each one shattering upon impact on a cold floor. I remember vividly turning the fountain of tears inward so no one would see my pain. It was after all my mother’s mother who had passed, and she needed strength… I was determined to be what my grandmother was for everyone else… quiet strength. From that moment on I endeavored to be *just* like her, my role model… I endeavored even back then to be quietly strong, sweetly supportive, and openly loving. It was such a tremendous burden I placed on my tiny little shoulders when I should have been grieving; I just hadn’t realized it at the time.
Time went on, I moved on and now the past catches up with the present.
When I sat here thinking about what to write, I couldn’t decide what to write about. So I thought of my past thinking “Oh lets share a funny story” and instead the story wrote itself. I like to think in reflection here, that I’ve become something like my grandmother and at least made her proud because I DO care, I TRY to be strong, and I love nothing more than being there FOR others. But that’s not what today’s memory is about…
As I write this today, I remember that world I made through that music box, and while I didn’t know it at the time, it’s clear to me now; even as a child, I was building my sanctuary. That world represented to me all that was safe. I was the piper playing songs in a land of freedom, where butterflies flew about of all colors and rainbows went on for days. Where death didn’t come knocking on your door uninvited and was in fact, banned from all celebrations.
Today for the first time, despite my darkness, I can hear the chimes of that music box. I remember the song it played almost perfectly. It’s like a door to be opened I suppose, one where my past meets my present and maybe they shake hands and acknowledge each other.
The memory of my grandmother too is on my mind today, and while I remember her passing with bittersweet sadness, there is joy too. Because in her remembrance I’ve allowed her light that was always there for me to shine INSIDE me today. She has yet again become my maestro stirring my creativity and my spirit by bringing my music box back to me and bringing me out of the dark even if just for a moment. So my shared memory today … is a good one, full of love and imagination.
I light a candle for her today in her passing. I light a candle for myself today in gratitude of the gift she has given me that fills me with warmth and makes me smile.
Perhaps you have someone you would like to light a candle for too?
Oh and by the way, it should be noted that while I forgot about the world of childhood imagination, I never did forget about that music box entirely… I started collecting Music boxes and snow globes a few years ago, I just didn’t realize until now that I was remembering my old music box by doing so until today ;)
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WELL WISHES
May you find your “music box” today. May the joy of Friday find your inner child and imagination thriving. And if it’s all too quiet in your world, may my love and wishes for you help you open the lid of your music box and let your dancer dance and the music sing for you. That is my wish for you today.
You are a blessing to me everyday.
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AND REMEMBER
Imagination will often carry us to worlds that never were. But without it we go nowhere. ~Carl Sagan
1 comment:
Oh, that is such a beautiful story about your grandmother Muse. So lovely. I know she would want you to have that inspiration and happiness in your life again. That box is probably the key to your health. Happiness and joy is the greatest immunity booster. I'm so glad you've discovered that inside again. I can feel your grandmother hugging you right now. She wants you to be radiant too.
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