I marvel at the marble, and wonder where o' where you've gone?
Is it just me, or were they everywhere at one time? Marbles. On the street? In the dirt? Under a tree? It seems to me I spent a good long portion of my youth finding them in the most random of places.
Now, nothing. Nowhere. Not a sight.
This glass goldfish is not a marble in the good ol' sense, but it so happens to be the greatest token of our love. (Mark's and mine.)
Aside from our child, that is!
As a side note, you may have noticed recently my sentimental posts showcasing simple (perhaps even odd) things like
seal-hair dolls and
census papers. You may wonder
why I'm adament in sharing them?
Really, what's the big deal?
Well, let me try to explain...
I know it's silly, but we're not guaranteed anything in this life. I mean, I really hope I live to be old, old, old. And I hope just as much that those I love and care for grow to be old, old, old with me, but I just can't say for sure? So, I feel it necessary to write what I value.
And I'm learning (with age), that those
things don't cost lots of money. In fact, they're neither bought nor sold for much of anything. They
just have heart. They tell a story.
And folks, a STORY is gold in my mind.
So, I marvel at the Murano marble. Our lil' glass ball that we bought together on a rainy September day, on a crooked side street in Venice, when our love was just new and our pockets empty.
It means as much to me as my $16 DICE wedding ring!
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