Free Milkshake!

I enjoy pockets.  One of the only disappointments of summer is the dearth of pockets between the months of June and September.  And a great thing about the arrival of fall is anticipating the use of pockets again.  Not the tiny tight pockets that women's jeans and shorts have, but the deep comforting pockets of a cozy sweater or your favorite down jacket or peacoat. 

I have gone to bed every night for the past two weeks hoping that the tight muggy weather of the midwest will blow away and I will wake up to a cool fall morning.  It hasn't happened yet but I know it is coming any day now.  When this finally happens the jackets, sweaters and wool pants come out and with them, the pocket time capsules.  If I'm really lucky, I will find something older than a year in a pocket that I didn't visit last season.

Granted, sometimes these things are icky.  The tissues that never made it into the trash can.  A small bit of paper with some gum waded up in it.  (On the up side, these do often make my pockets smell minty, which beats moth balls!)  From time to time, I rejoice because I tucked some loose bills or change into a pocket and then forgot about it.... free milkshake!  However, the pocket treasure that I love best is a movie ticket stub, a Mariner's ticket, a friendly note or fortune cookie promise.  These little scraps of life can transport me to another place.  It is a kind of time travel, similar to looking at a photo album or scrapbook, but better because I didn't consciously decide to ramble down memory lane.  Instead it came upon me suddenly without premeditation.

Best of all, these are not necessarily items that I treasured when I put them into my pockets.  They were things to be stored but not to be consciously kept.

The things that you want to keep, you make an effort to put somewhere safe.  I have a whole set of boxes in my newly cleaned pantry with old letters and cards, ticket stubs and dried flowers that were important enough to make an effort preserving.  Pocket treasures, however, really are scraps.  They only move from scrap to treasure because they are reminders of something that had been totally forgotten.  The ATM receipt from my cash withdrawal in Paris, a ticket stub from Transformers 2 that was a major disappointment.  The handkerchief that I inherited from a dear family friend, a T token from the years I lived in Boston.

There are moments in life when we make an effort to remember certain details and emotions.  I imagine that my wedding day will be one of them.  The little details sometimes get lost in our efforts to remember the "important" things.  Pockets have a seemingly magical power to help remind us of those insignificant days; the days that make up most of our lives and seem to just seep in and around the pivotal ones, filling in the space.  Pockets are for the days that we didn't feel the need to take a picture, send a postcard or write a journal entry.

I hope the weather turns tonight.