When I was a little girl, I used to form unhealthy attachments to inanimate objects. I would hold tight to the memory of where it came from, who had gifted it, or how long it had been in my life. My things became tiny friends...whispered stories in my room at night.
Not a lot has changed, and these days I still fill our house with little reminders of all these memory-soaked corners of my mind. Piles of rocks and shells, cards, textiles, and book ends.
In the Summer of 2009, Michael and I went on a road trip to Colorado to camp and hike. Somewhere along the 12 hour drive, I cut two pieces of an old fabric I'd had for years, and stitched them into a little bracelet. When I put it on, I had no idea how long it would actually be there.
To be exact, the bracelet lived to be 2 years old. And after that day that I put it on my wrist, I never took it off again. Until today. Underneath it is one pale stripe around my wrist, a memory in itself of all the Summer adventures that my little friend lived through.
Like one barefoot, muddy girls-only weekend in Austin with my best friend.
The little bracelet got a little bit more bleached in the sun & salt....
and Florida wetlands.
Cliff-diving over Summer weekends....
...and little road trips along the way.
And one year later, it traveled back to Colorado. And it was around my wrist the day we got home and I took a pregnancy test.
It was a Summer I will always remember.
Full of new adventures.
Little bracelet traveled back to Austin to eat some yummy food and introduce baby E to some of the best migas that she will ever have.
And at 11:20am, it was mixed in to hospital bracelets and around my wrist, on the morning that Elodie was born.
You made it two years, bracelet. Two years full of exciting memories and life-changing moments that were soaked into your worn, bleached threads. Goodbye, little friend.