Everybody’s sentimental about something. As for me, I’m sentimental about my old class planners I had from many, many years ago during my college days. Recorded in them are my lists of assignments from day to day for each class I took. I figure they are a part of my history. It’s nice to be able to reflect on them, and remember my college days fondly.
I also save all of my drafts from my writings, because it’s something my teachers have taught me to do going all the way back to my middle school years. They told me to save them, because they show work. It’s stuck in my head ever since. So, I have several file cabinets full of manuscripts and several rough drafts for each manuscript. I also worry about my work being copied and stolen from me by throwing them out. Anyone who finds my work in the garbage can copy and steal the works for their own.
I’m also sentimental about journals and diaries. I’ve collected several throughout the years. Many of them are filled up, while many others are not yet filled up. I do intend to fill them all with my valuable writings, little by little. It just depends on whenever I’m able to get to them.
I still have a pair of old dress shoes I had ever since I was eleven years old. I first got them back in 1980 to wear to a cousins baptism when he was a baby. Now, he’s 35 years old. The shoes in question fit me up until the time I was 27 ½ years old. I wore a shoe size of 8 ½ from age 11 thru age 27 ½ years old. Then, somehow, my feet became larger, due to prescription medication I was taking. I haven’t been able to get into those shoes in question ever since.
I remember the baptism very clearly. I wore the shoes with a beautiful blue dress, and white nylon stockings. My great-aunt and great-uncle from my maternal grandmother’s side of the family came in from Detroit with my cousin, their granddaughter, for the occasion.
The cousin getting baptized and I are 3rd cousins. His mother and my mother are 1st cousin. According to the Greek traditions, the 1st cousins to the parents are generally referred to as the aunts and uncles of the children, instead of being referred to as 2nd cousins like they are here in the United States.
I remember when my aunt, my 3rd cousin’s mother, brought him down the aisle to be presented to the Godmother of the child to be baptized. The little baby didn’t like the water at first. He cried when he was placed into the font of water, especially when the Godmother places holy oil over the head of the child. A small piece of the child’s hair is snipped as an offering to the Lord.
Following the sacrament, the child is taken out of the font, and is dried off with a towel, and dressed by the Godmother, who then presents the child his mother.
Whenever I look upon those special shoes I wore to the baptism when I was 11 years old, I’m taken back to the time of my cousin’s baptism, remembering the event fondly.
© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2015