Sheils Writes

I can’t remember exactly when I did this, end of 2023, maybe March 2024 – we were cleaning out my parents house, my childhood home.  A part of the journey of life.  Anyways, the exact time isn’t important, the task apparently was.  There were a million other things to do, I know.  I stopped at the pencil cup, or cups.  I think one was a blue ceramic golf bag.  I picked through all the pencils.  I probably spent a half hour doing this.  Pause.  Refer back to the ‘there were a million other things to do” sentence, please.  I, instead, did this.  I sorted through old pencils and put them in my suitcase.

Fast forward 3 years, give or take.  Today I came across all these old pencils in one of many pencil cups, mugs, what have you that I’ve accumulated from my move to Florida.  I’m busy today, but these pencils, again, stopped me in time, stopped life, for another 30 minutes.  There’s something about these old pencils.  The words they wrote.  The grocery lists.  The hopes and dreams someone wrote with them.  The travel log.  The household budget.  The measurements for a shelf to build.  The movie times for Jaws or Star Wars, which theatre.  The phone number for the babysitter.  Half finished crossword puzzles.  The party list.  So many party lists.

Next time you find you have a million other things to do, I hope you find an old pencil cup somewhere.  Take your time.  Hold them.  Keep them.  They are so much more than a half used, sort of sharpened writing instrument.  They are life.

(They also actually motivated me today to write again, how funny is that?? It’s ironic to me in some way, I continue to be grateful for these funny old half used pencils).