The older I get, the more I seem to look back at the past. Don't take me wrong, I try to live in the present as much as possible, but sometimes I get a little nostalgic.
This morning, I went up to the attic to bring some laundry downstairs to iron (We've turned our unused attic room into a drying station for all our washing. We used to hang it out to dry outside, but those damned birds always shit on it.) I didn't intended to, but involuntarily my eyes were drawn to my grandfather's library cupboard. There I used to display my collection of Barbie dolls. Dolls from the early 1960's, with dresses designed by Balmain or Dior. They are not there anymore. My sister and I decided to donate them to the Toy Museum in Mechelen. The people there were very grateful, as I had kept the original boxes (I always cared a lot about the things I owned) and there were many dolls and even more dresses.
I also wondered where in heaven's name some of the things we had have disappeared. I know I had some paper dolls, with paper clothes to fold around them - and I can't find them anymore. I've climbed into the hidden part of the roof (through a trapdoor over the entrance to the attic). There still are a lot of boxes there, but what I was looking for I can't find back. And I know I never put them out with the trash. The same goes for the Tiny books my sister used to have. Gone as well. Most likely, it was our dad who put out some of these boxes, without asking if they contained something we'd like to keep.
In the library are some books which belonged to my grandfather. Brings back memories of sitting on his lap, listening to him reading from Alexandre Dumas (in French). No wonder I like to write historical fiction, with lots of adventure and action!
Are there any of my readers who feel the same about old things?