Collection

I collect cigar boxes. I have about 100, maybe less. It's nice to have a collection of something. It isn't an obsession, but when I'm out, in the back of my mind I think that maybe I'll be able to find a cigar box here. And about once a year, a box appears.

The goal is not quantity. It is purely attraction. Something about the box speaks to me, be it the logo, script, or duty verification stamps from customs. It could be made of cedar or just lined with cedar. Some have latches, others have tacks. It doesn't matter as long as it speaks to me, winks hello and tempts me. That's the cigar box I collect.


In each of my boxes is a little treasure. Open any one and you'll find something inside it. It may not always be a prize, but there's something. Pictures of myself in the 5th grade, my father's dog tags from his army days, my all access pass to the bicycle racing pavilion at the 1990 Good Will Games...I'll never forget the day I served espresso to the Italian racing team. I thank god, daily, for that week! Life has been good to me.


While rummaging through yesterday, I came across a letter written to my father from my grandfather (his dad.) Reading it I am reminded of my grandpa's strong, quiet sense of humor.This exactly what he wrote:



March 15, 1987

Dear Jack,

Thanks for coming over---I love you. Be good!! etc...

Pop

P.S.

The Cadillac is yours for $1.00 (In my will you get it for nothing!!)



My dad loved that Cadillac and he drove it for several years after grandpa died. I'm pretty sure Dad shelled out the dollar, but it's hard to tell with the men in my family. They die so young! What does that mean? That once a man hooks up with one of these fiery women they need no more? Are they happy when they die? Is the rebirth worth it?




So much love,
All the way from over here,
Linda