How do you preserve your most precious memories? Who is the keeper of your story?
My Grandfather’s desk was as utilitarian as the man himself and it’s where he kept watch. Its defining feature wasn’t the rich oak or the way it caught the morning light. Its slab of glass etched by a million pen strokes wasn’t it either. It was the carefully curated family photographs each in its perfect place under the glass.
My Dad and Uncle jokingly coopted this idea to settle the perennial dispute over who was the more prized son. The closer their photos were to Poppy’s seat at the desk, they argued, the more prized the memory. In a home where every surface was adorned with family photographs, to make it under the glass was something special.
Today, the desk lives on in my Dad’s study where he continues the tradition in his own way. Whenever I visit home and find myself a quiet moment, I like to take a seat in the chair to see what’s on his mind. Even though I already know what I’ll find, I can’t help but be in awe of what’s right there in front of me.
Under the glass.
You don't need a shoe or even to be in the same room to play this game. When I first met my wife she had just applied to be on the Bachelor. In fact it might have been one of the first things we ever talked about. Anyway, while this is the closest she'll ever get to her reality TV dream, I was pleased to hear the girls at a good time at my expense.
Enjoy.