The Magic Box of the Past

I do not know how you are with this but I am very sentimental. Always been, always will. Incurable!

I carefully keep things from my past both in and out (feelings and tangible things). 

Someone told me once that this extreme sentimentalism is my biggest strength and biggest weakness.

I think he was right. But I trust I received it as a present, I am just not there yet to use it properly. This is fact. Today, I am unable to handle this gift and this makes me fall deep – deep – deep to the past.

I think, in general I master the saying: ‘You have to know the past to understand the present.’
I am so good at the first part, and so not ready for the second.

But they also say. ‘The first step is to realize the problem’
I am getting good at this, too.

But you know, there is something magical about all those things you keep from your past. Why this memory and not that? Why this flight ticket and not that?
I have vivid memories from seemingly ‘unimportant’ moments of my life: the first Italian gelato I ate. The PEZ sugar I ate during a big storm while watching my father from inside the house how he ran across the garden collecting my toys.  The face of the blind person I helped after watching the movie Amélie.  Or the first time I held the Nutcracker doll in the Opera-house – I was mesmerized.

But I do not remember what I wanted to be as a little girl. I do not remember what I was daydreaming about as  a little girl. I do not remember what motivated me as a little girl. And what made my eyes shiny everyday. I do not remember what I thought about the world as a little girl and what was my first thought when I woke up every morning.

(Don’t you think these would be more helpful than the Italian fragole gelato melting in my mouth – I do.)

Today, I found some magic from the tangible section of my past memories. I found letters I wrote and received from my friends at the age of 13. I found the first insurance paper with my very first signature. I found a note from my Brother, who I never thought  or knew would write about his feelings. I found a my kindergarden certificate with my first official document picture (oh, those shiny, powerful, motivated yes!). I found me saying at the age of 14: ‘I do not think I want to live in Hungary. And I am afraid this world is just too sad to live in’.

But what touched me and made me sit down for a few minutes are all those letters, notes, cards, postcards that were sending me love, joy, happiness. Where are all those people from my life now? How did their life turn out? What happened with us? Why did we loose track of each other’s life?
Pure negligence and laziness? Or we finished our lessons with each other?

People come and go. A very few stays. And then maybe even they go. Sometimes you have  nobody. You are alone. Sometimes you like this. Sometimes you wish somebody would come…
Somebody, who is sending you love, joy, happiness – again.


Do I believe that the ‘Invisible Hand’ knows better what and who I need in my life thanmyself? Sometimes. What happens when I do not believe in it? I am falling deep – deep – deep to the past – again.

Those are the times when I get sentimental.
Those are the times when I start opening letters from 1997…


One thought on “The Magic Box of the Past

  1. Pingback: December should be cancelled | The grass is always greener…?!

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