A plain white envelope with handwritten addresses. My name in black ink brought a little smile to my lips. Real mail, not bills or advertisements or junk, always makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up with a pleasurable tingle. Even better was seeing my friend Maureen's name in the return address.
My hands were full of envelopes, but I was able to press the envelope between my fingertips, an action that broadened my smile - there was something more than just paper in there. I knew what it was without even looking.
When we were hiking in Peru, I noticed that Maureen had a wonderful blue and yellow Buddhist-esque face patch on her backpack. I admired it, and asked her to snag one for me if she ever saw them again. I didn't really think that she'd remember, and I certainly didn't expect her to go out of her way to find me one. But she did, and I love it. As soon as I got home, I grabbed my pack and a needle and thread and started sewing. I was inspired to sew on the Peru patch I picked up in Aguas Calientes, too.
My goal is to go on so many hikes in interesting places that my pack gets covered in colorful patches. It will be well worth carrying those extra few ounces on my back to keep good memories close at hand. Everytime I look at that wonderful red and orange and gray face, I will not only remember Maureen, but also Peru and the thrill of getting mail.
How do you keep your special memories close? Do you collect tangible reminders of people or places?
