Wednesday, January 30, 2008

This Little Light of Mine


Most of the money we received as wedding gifts went straight into the "survive at college" pot or the "fix up the junky trailer" pot. The first $20 bill, though, I took to Hobby Lobby in OKC and bought my very own lamp.

Not just any lamp, mind you, but a decorative lamp. It had a picture painted on the underside of its glass shade that shone through when you turned it on. I'm not even sure what kind of picture it was, but it was my picture, on my decorative lamp, and that's important when you're about to own your own "house" (you'd have to have seen our trailer to understand the quote marks there) and be a grown-up.

It really was possibly the most useless lamp known to mankind. It only used a 15 Watt bulb, which meant it wasn't bright enough to accomplish anything, but it was too bright to leave on as a night light. I don't know if I ever turned it on more than 10 times in its life, but I couldn't quite bear to part with it. It was the memory, of course, that I kept. It was that memory of going shopping with my mom, and being an adult, and choosing my own lamp for my own place. Several times I decided to give it away, and every time I faltered at the last moment, and found somewhere to put it.

Zaya made the decision for me yesterday. In an attempt to throw all the blankets and pillows off the bed, he hit the lamp with my wedge pillow and the shade broke irreparably. For the sake of teaching my toddler repentance I made a very sad face and said,
"Oh no, you broke Mommy's lamp Zay. It was a very special lamp."
When his little eyes started to tear up, though, I gave him hugs and told him that he was much more important than a lamp, because he was my boy. We reconciled and I started cleaning up the mess.

Zaya learned that you must be careful with other people's things, and I learned that it's OK to let go of things, because the memory is still there, even without the lamp. Mom and I still went shopping together and we still planned my wedding and sorted through all the stuff, deciding what things I would take for my new life, and what things would be left behind as part of my childhood.

A few minutes after the tragedy, Zaya came into my room and said,
"I know Mommy! We can go buy you a new lamp!"
Proving that he really is a child after my own heart. Maybe Mom will go with us to pick it out, and we'll all make a new memory.

2 comments:

aftergrace said...

You are right about this being an important lesson. Zaya is so sensible. You're doing a great job.

Lilibeth said...

Sounds like a good plan.