At a recent family gathering, I had to look up a phone number. My son's reaction to seeing the address book was: " I can't believe you still have that book!"
Now, I'm not sure whether he was aghast that I'd had it for over 40 years or whether he thought I should have embraced some other wizard way of capturing the information. But I started looking at it differently.
I saw the shabby and torn cover for the first time. I could see all the scratchings of old addresses and new ones inserted. All the different pens and pencils which had been used. Certainly not going to win me any prizes in the neatness stakes. I pictured it on a CD to give scale. It's really very tiny.
Ah! No matter. I have an archeological document: forensic anthropology right here in my hand. It shows what's been happening behind the family and friends scene since I was in university. Since I had friends who didn't live just across the road. And family was sometimes far away.
There are addresses for friends who have moved many, many times. And entries for a very few friends who have never moved at all. Some of the people listed are no longer living but all have been important in my life. All sorts of birthdays are listed on the back cover. And I've kept it current so all three grandbabies and a great-nephew are there in the continuum.
I'm very grateful to have had the addresses in the back of my mom's teenage diary as it helped when studying family history. I've known people to buy a new address book and make it all tidy again. Me? I think I'll keep mine just the way it is. And keep on adding to it. It'll be valuable to that son one day.
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