You all probably remember that, earlier this week, our apartment became a virtual bank vault when a door lock went wonky and my Sweetie and I were locked out. My beloved (and athletic) angel scaled a ladder, crawled through an open second story window and essentially “broke in” our own apartment, LOL! The good news is, within like fifteen hours, all the locks had been changed. ALL the doors are now “cross-keyed” (one key works every door, which was not how it was before) and all the key problems are solved. Except for this one:
So what do I do with this key now? It’s a brass key – who even makes brass keys anymore? – and it is smooth from years of riding on key chains in pants pockets. I mean, this key was in my pocket – or a pocket – for almost 22 years. This key opened the door to our beautiful apartment for the first time after I had waited on a list for almost three years to get in the building. This key opened the door after hundreds – if not thousands – of good days, and bad days as well. This was the key I gave to my beloved MSW when I asked him to move in with me (DEFINITELY the BEST day). This key has seen me through love and heartache, opened doors to much happiness and poetically closed the door on more than a few sad chapters in my life. It’s like this key is my friend.
I know I am ridiculously sentimental at times but I cannot bring myself to throw it away. The other “copies” of this key, yes, but not this key, no way. I mean, I am so silly… Even the word “key” conjures up so many images for me – unlocking dreams, opening doors to new beginnings/adventures, locking away things that are precious or sacred, or loved and irreplaceable. Keys are powerful talismans for me.
It’s hard to see in the image because the key has worn so smooth with age and use but the word “STAR” appears at the top of the key. The word is faint now, worn almost smooth by age and use, kinda’ like the way time and wind wears down cliff faces or the way ocean waves make broken bottles into luminous sea glass.
I look at this key and it makes me smile. I remember the day I gave it to my Sweetie, and how happy he looked and how lucky and loved I felt. I cannot just throw it away.
I know, I know – they are those of you who will say I am just a pack rat. You’ll say, “Years from now, you’ll find this key loose in a drawer and wonder what the heck it opens.”
Not this key. I will always know this key.