I’ve been unpacking boxes of Mama’s stuff that I wanted to keep and go through (that we had to move out of their home when we moved someone else in)….but only one per day, because really, that’s about all I can handle.
I had kept putting stuff in a tote, tiny things that didn’t belong anywhere else…photographs, scraps of paper, notes, crocheted flowers, a bottle of Youth Dew that still had enough wafting scent to remind me of my mama when she got all dressed up to go out.
So today, when I looked for the next box to open, and remember, I spied the tote. Maybe today was the day to go through those things.
I was wrong. Today wasn’t the day, but when my hands felt the smooth, cool wooden handle deep down in the tote, I knew this was the one memory I could pull out and keep on display, and maybe with a little repair, it could even bring new memories to a certain 9-year-old.
I am betting Mama carved this sling shot, or maybe one of her brothers did. Of course, she could have bought it at one of the yard sales she loved so much, but I’m gonna go with the small tree that I’m sure was cut down from their yard, a branch carved out and presented like the gift it was to my mama where she stretched a rubber band over the notches and perfected her aim, protecting herself and hurting others as needed. She told stories of popping mean brothers that were hiding on the porch or roof or out in the barn, ready to scare a little sister.
But she had good aim, and didn’t take anything from any of them.
And now, I will show Tater how to aim. How to pull the rubber band just so and hold it at the right level, snapping the band at the moment she’s ready.
And mama will be watching….making sure we’re doing it right.