Thankful Doesn't Begin

So, we made it. I'm here and blogging from Maryland. The drive was long and rainy--I was tired and cranky and stiff and hungry when we got here.

When we went upstairs to bed, there was a big roll of paper sitting on the bed.

Let's back up 10 years.

I used to be a HUGE Beatles collector. The records I still collect, but back in the day, I had some amazing original posters from the 60's, gorgeous stuff and HUGE! Posters weren't kidding around back then. Just one of my posters could take up my entire dining room wall.

Proud of them, I was. My collection was really arresting and it meant a lot to me emotionally and I felt, at the time, that it defined me and who I wanted to be in a lot of ways, when I still wasn't too sure about all that. 2 years into college, when I was moving from room to room, as I did every year, I lost my entire collection in one fell swoop. It was in one big poster tube and I never saw it again.

The loss was devestating to me. I didn't talk about it a lot at the time; I was moving in with someone who wouldn't have let me put up all those posters in the first place. But I missed them always, and when I finally met and married someone who not only would have let me put up those posters, but would revel in them, I missed them even more.

Over time I grew bitter about it, and I'm sorry to say that I began to wonder if that long ago roommate hadn't "lost" or sold them.

I guess you already know that the paper on my bed was my posters. All of them. All wrapped up together and in immaculate shape, having sat in a closet in my parent's house all these years. I cried as I unrolled them. I feel like someone gave me a huge, tangible piece of my life back. I have no idea how they got there.

I can't wait to get home and re-do that music room.

So I'm thankful, today, for this evidence of a 18 year old girl who loved the Beatles. And I'd also like to say I'm sorry to that person who I've maligned in my heart these many years.