Digressions: My Life in 500 Words or Less

Sometimes things just come together. Sometimes those things come together unintentionally.

That was what happened with the bookcase in our upstairs hallway. That bookcase has been there for a few years and holds some of my vintage books. A few knickknacks rest on top of it, including some representing tools of the writing craft.

Last year, as Rebecca and I decorated for Christmas, we rearranged a few things. One of those things was a small table on our staircase landing. That table had held a double globe lamp, a vintage glass photo of my Mom and a pipe my father smoked through the years. Ever since my parents passed away — my mother in 2007, my father in 2017 — I’ve included personal keepsakes of theirs around the house.

So we moved the lamp and personal items to the hallway bookcase. The new location suited the items.

After the holidays, we began returning things to their original locations, but we liked the way the lamp looked on the hallway bookcase. We decided to leave the lamp and items there until we could find a similar lamp to use on the bookshelf. The personal items, we decided, would stay on the hallway bookcase.

During that time, I was going through stored items from our family home. I unpacked a framed newspaper column I had written about my father and had given him for Father’s Day. I later unpacked a pair of vases I associated with Mom. And somewhere in that timeframe I also found an old Polaroid photo of me asleep on a couch in a dorm lobby at WesternKentucky University, where I attended college. I put those items on the hallway bookshelf with the glass photo, pipe and lamp.

Eventually, Rebecca and I went shopping for a lamp similar to the one we took from the landing table. Rebecca found one we liked at Peddler’s Mall, even though it was a different style.

The only thing missing was flowers for the vases. I told Rebecca I wanted artificial yellow roses. Mom loved yellow roses. I never had seen artificial yellow roses, so I expected they would be difficult to find. I figured we’d have to search online.

The following day, Rebecca and I were shopping, and she wanted to drop by Michaels. As we arrived, there — right on the sidewalk in front of the store — stood a table of boxes filled with artificial yellow roses. On sale, to boot.

We bought a couple of bunches, and they were the perfect length. The space on the bookshelf was crowded, but it looked right.

Recently I looked at the display and noticed it did not have anything to represent Rebecca. I knew she needed to be included.

As I deliberated what item of hers to display, it dawned on me: Rebecca was the one who found the lamp. She had provided the light.

Sometimes things just come together.