Why didn’t somebody tell me!

This runs through my mind often these days. 15 ago years when my family was searching through all my grandpas stuff in his garage, and I had no interest, why didn’t anybody tell me! You know, he had one of those awesome 2 story garages on his property, along with a pretty fantastic cabin. I have so many memories from that place I could write a book!

My grandpa was all about working hard, earning your keep and “no hot rodding”. For those that don’t know what that is, it’s no driving fast on the four wheeler. I still can hear him yelling after us as we drove down the tree lined dirt roads.

I swear I picked up more than my weight in rocks every summer when we came. We were convinced he kept planting them so we’d have something to do. Of course I complained every time, without fail. But man, now that is one of my most cherished memories.

My grandfathers garage was full of one of everything. Tools, horse equipment, farm necessities, and on and on. If only someone had told me then that these things would hold a huge place in my life someday!

 

Nobody can replace the fond memories I have spending my summer in a small northern Utah town, nestled in the mountains and teeming with nature, life, and all things opposite of my life in Las Vegas. I craved this simple life, I remember begging my parents to move here. It explains now, my nature to love the simple small town life.

Along with all the great memories I have of spending my time with loads of family and friends, I remember stepping through the dusty door of my grandpas two story garage. Being all of 12 years old, dragging an old saddle out and saddling up our grandpas cherished horse Joker. I think this horse had to be 50 years old. Okay, I might be exaggerating a bit, but man was he old. If my gramps could have bee a horse, he would have been Joker.  

I remember spending hours exploring his garage, seeing all the treasures he collected in there. Old tools, old everything. Man, if someone had told me I would appreciate their significance!  I would have driven up there, loaded up all I could before they sold the cabin. Because now, it’s all gone. It pains me to think of all those items I did not see as important at the time! Obviously we took everything of sentimental value, but oh how I would kill to be wandering through his dusty garage exploring every nook and cranny, finding an awesome treasure or two.

These days, coming across anything similar to this, finding unique treasures, bringing them home and giving them a new life, well, it is my bread and butter.  Even the thought of having the chance to walk through an old barn, or farmhouse shed gets my heart racing.  I never said I was normal.  But what fun is being normal if you cant do what you love!

I am so grateful for all the memories I have with my grandpa and those sweet summer days.  Sleeping in the crows nest, hand grinding cracked wheat for breakfast, and yes, picking up all those rocks.  I wish someone had told me.  Even to have one item from that time in my life, to carry memories and stories to my own children.  I think that is why we do it.  Finding old treasures from a lost time.  It creates a sense of nostalgia, of a time far gone.  What can I learn now?  To treasure those moments, and be present in them today.  To embrace time.  And if in my picking and travels, I come across some items that bring me back to those moments, you bet I am going to snatch them up.
Have a great Saturday all!
Find your treasure.
Sara