Picture It And Write It, July 2, 2012


http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/

Ermilia gives me this opportunity to use my imagination by writing for a picture she presents to me. Thank you Ermilia!

Keys represent so many things in my life. My first key to my very own diary. I wrote every thought down in it and locked it up with my special key, I hung around my neck on a beaded chain, then I hid my diary under my mattress. I am sure looking back in time, it was mainly filled with dreams of boys and work my mom and dad made me do.

The keys to my first car, a 1961 Ford Falcon. I was so proud of this. Mom and dad bought me my first car, and paid for my auto insurance. If I wanted a better car later on, then I had to come up with the funding and be able to pay my auto insurance part. It was solid black, with all gray interior. It had an AM radio, that I kept on full volume as I was cruising down the road to work. My parents would not let me go joy riding. They taught me that until I became an expertise at driving, cars were to get me to work and no one under 18 was allowed in the car while I was driving. I drove that car until the transmission fell apart, then sold it to the junk yard for pennies on the dollar.

The key to my being a senior. This was an  honor to wear. A gold key representing the fact that I had made it to the 12th grade, and I would be graduating. I wore it every single day until I found my one true love, and then gifted it to him. Now, that relationship is diminished, and only God knows where that key is today.

The key to my honeymoon suite. I was in seventh heaven. I was madly in love, and always wore a smile on my face. Being pampered, and made to feel that I was the only one worth looking at in life, was probably the best ego trip I had ever been on. I wonder why they quit making you feel that way?

The key to my first apartment, after leaving an abuser. This was the biggest high I had ever felt. I was a free woman, and I was in love with life. I made all my own decisions, fixing up my little place to represent only me and no one else. It was a very small apartment, but it was mine, and I am the only one who held that silver key!

The key to my father’s house. This was a sad moment in life, as I lost the only person I ever worshiped.  I moved in to this house and started caring for my brother, after he had his heart attack. Every room I walked in, everything I touched or saw, was a constant memory of what I had lost.

They key to our home. Al and I live alone, in our own house. It is a house that holds many secrets to the future. It is  four walls that hold many emotions, and tears and some smiles. Through all of this, God is the center of our life, and no matter which room we walk through, or we choose to be alone, God is with us.

The next key is to my future. A future unknown to me, but God knows. I can play role models of different puzzle pieces and guess what may happen in times to come, but I think I would be better off to keep my mind on today, the present. It is today that Al and I are making memories, and it is now that only matters. To be needed and loved are many keys that have been opened in my life. I have reached all levels by walking the stair case. The ultimate key will be the big, shiny gold one. The key to heaven’s door.