Somewhere Over the Rainbow

    
     Those that know me well, or even a little bit, are aware of my practical nature, level head, and ability to separate facts from feelings and make decisions accordingly.   It is this very side of me that knows I am one more plastic tub of baby clothes or box of finger paintings away from qualifying to appear on an episode of Hoarders.  Every time my husband descends from the attic, his left eye is twitching. Just today my mother feared she'd lose my rogue toddler among the crates and boxes in the basement.
     When it comes to my children's belongings and creations, my common sense characteristics disappear faster than puzzle pieces. I cannot choose between the cuddly blankets I wrapped them in as infants, so I saved them all.  My heart aches at the thought of one their drawings of our family (with big heads, stick appendages, and missing bodies) at the bottom of the trash can.  I cannot bear to part with any of the frilly dresses that my daughter twirled in on each of her birthdays or the Toy Story tee-shirt that my middle child wore nearly every single day for an entire summer. And my plan to go through every scrap of paper my daughter brought home from Kindergarten at the end of the year and only keep what was most meaningful?  I have to confess that we are now more than half way through first grade and that has yet to happen.
     So when one afternoon almost a year ago I saw my daughter running up the driveway after school carrying a beautifully painted rainbow with multi-colored streamers fluttering behind her, I knew this was something I would never be able to part with.  It was a cheerful reminder of spring after a seemingly never-ending winter as well as of the innocence of childhood.  It added a splash of color to the muted tones of our dining room as it hung from the chandelier and a surge of joy to my heart every time I looked at it.  It caused me to reminisce about the lullaby I sang to my little girl as I rocked to her to sleep as a baby, or as I stroked her hair snuggled in bed next to her as she got older on the nights she had trouble falling asleep....the same lullaby my mom sang to me...Somewhere Over the Rainbow.
     After months hanging in the place of honor, I decided it was time to take it down and pack it away for safe keeping in her memory box, where I put the most cherished items that will stay with me even after time and space (or my hubby/mother's joined forces)  cause me to pare down my stash. As I was humming the strains to that precious tune while dozens of memories flooded through my mind, my daughter enters the room.  I told her how much this rainbow meant to me, and how I planned to keep it forever.  And then she said with a shrug "I don't know why.  I was absent on the day the class made those and the teacher gave me that one.  It was an extra."