Would you like to peek inside my closets? First, I have to tell you that I love big closets, especially since we had always lived in old houses where closets were not a priority for the builders. So, when we saw the generous closets here at our CCRC, it may not have been the first thing we considered, but it certainly didn’t hurt.
We have four closets. One is a coat closet near the front door, which besides the obvious, has a shelf where hats are stored. They include quite a collection of baseball caps, my husband’s prized Australian Army hat, and his almost new, genuine Panama hat. Next is a hall closet, which we outfitted for linens, blankets, and so on – boring. Then there is the nice sized walk-in closet which belongs to my husband. Mostly clothing, plus a big stack of old VCR tapes on the top shelf, take up that space. Of course, I have saved the best for last. My closet is BIG and has something that no one else does. It’s a picture 41 inches wide by 17 inches high. It is on the wall just above the shelf with my shoes (mostly sneakers) and below a much higher shelf with shoe boxes full of slides (don’t ask!).
On the occasion of our 5oth wedding anniversary, one of our daughters made this artwork. It is a time line with dates across the bottom and forty-one pictures of the many intervening events between our wedding and our anniversary. At the appropriate times are the baby pictures of our children and grandchildren. Then: the Berlin Wall going up, JFK assassinated, MLK assassinated, Nixon leaves office, Indira Gandhi assassinated, Space Shuttle Challenger blows up, Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant blows up. You get the picture? We get married and then there are all kinds of disasters. To be fair there was the Rubik’s Cube and the first ATM machine in there somewhere. It is actually kind of funny.
However, something was wrong. One of the grandbaby pictures (not one of the artist’s own) was not familiar and it really bothered me no end. Eventually, we carefully dismantled the whole thing and inserted the correct picture of the child whose name was above the stranger picture. Now I am comfortable. Every time I get dressed, or sit down to put on my shoes (yes the closet is big enough to have a chair) or retrieve something from the filing cabinet in back, I look at that picture and smile. But, I still wonder whose baby that was.