When I was a kid, I remember my dad used to sing an old, WWI song, “Pack up your Troubles,” while he was getting dressed for work in the morning. The lyrics from the chorus of the song play in my head often when
I’m packing for a trip—“Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile.”
Lately, with TSA regulations seemingly changing daily, packing my kit bag with clothes, toothbrush and Ziploc-baggie of three-ounce bottles seems more like trouble than fun, fun, fun.
For my friend, Vikki, though, what to pack isn't as important as whom to pack. She takes her family and friends everywhere. Vikki took her mother skiing in Mammoth last November and she took my mother-in-law to the
ruins of Machu Picchu and Rome. Vikki has taken numerous people to exotic places like the outback in Australia, and the Greek Islands—all posthumously and in her bag.
You see, Vikki collects prayer cards from funerals and memorials of her loved ones and takes them with her wherever she goes. The cards, some with watercolor images of Jesus and others with pictures of a deceased friend and “in loving memory” printed beneath, are bound together with a rubber
band and stashed somewhere in Vikki’s carry-on.
I'm fascinated by this practice and ask her about it often. I like to keep tabs on the number of cards she carries as it increases. At last count Vikki was toting around forty people. I’ve often thought that when the tally reached fifty-two, I’d propose some kind of card game we could play. My husband, Larry and I sometimes travel with Vikki and her husband, Bill, so we could while away the hours on trains and boats by playing some modified version of war, poker, or go-fish.
Obviously, I’m
not as sentimental about Vikki’s collection as she is, but on a trip two years ago, I witnessed the power of those prayer cards.
Larry and I were in Peru with Vikki and Bill. We had just finished dinner at a restaurant in Aguas Calientes, when Vikki slid a small card across the table to Larry and asked, “Would you like to have your mom with you tomorrow when you climb Machu Picchu?” Larry was visibly moved by the gesture and slipped the prayer card from his mother’s funeral into his shirt pocket. When we walked the ancient, Incan ruins the next day, Larry had his mom with him and I could sense the joy he felt in her presence
.
It was then I realized the enormous happiness Vikki must feel, having some forty loved ones near her at all times.
With all the rules today about what travelers can’t bring on a flight, maybe we’d all be a little more pleasant if we focused on the things we can bring and make sure they are what make us happy or at least smile, smile, smile.
Marta placed her fingers over his lips. “Shhh,” she hushed him. “I do love you, Edward. I always have. And because of that, all I really want is your happiness. Go to her.” As she gazed up at him, he saw
for the first time how very beautiful she was. He recalled their walks in the meadows, their quiet evenings before the fire, her working beside him with the sandbags. It was then he realized what he had known for months. “No, Marta. It is you I want.” Sweeping her into his arms, he kissed her with all the love
bursting inside him. Their families gathered around them chorusing, “We are here for the wedding!”
Yss
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Lately, with TSA regulations seemingly changing daily, packing my kit bag with clothes, toothbrush and Ziploc-baggie of three-ounce bottles seems more like trouble than fun, fun, fun.
For my friend, Vikki, though, what to pack isn't as important as whom to pack. She takes her family and friends everywhere. Vikki took her mother skiing in Mammoth last November and she took my mother-in-law to the
⚠ Тільки зареєстровані користувачі бачать весь контент та не бачать рекламу.
You see, Vikki collects prayer cards from funerals and memorials of her loved ones and takes them with her wherever she goes. The cards, some with watercolor images of Jesus and others with pictures of a deceased friend and “in loving memory” printed beneath, are bound together with a rubber
⚠ Тільки зареєстровані користувачі бачать весь контент та не бачать рекламу.
I'm fascinated by this practice and ask her about it often. I like to keep tabs on the number of cards she carries as it increases. At last count Vikki was toting around forty people. I’ve often thought that when the tally reached fifty-two, I’d propose some kind of card game we could play. My husband, Larry and I sometimes travel with Vikki and her husband, Bill, so we could while away the hours on trains and boats by playing some modified version of war, poker, or go-fish.
Obviously, I’m
⚠ Тільки зареєстровані користувачі бачать весь контент та не бачать рекламу.
Larry and I were in Peru with Vikki and Bill. We had just finished dinner at a restaurant in Aguas Calientes, when Vikki slid a small card across the table to Larry and asked, “Would you like to have your mom with you tomorrow when you climb Machu Picchu?” Larry was visibly moved by the gesture and slipped the prayer card from his mother’s funeral into his shirt pocket. When we walked the ancient, Incan ruins the next day, Larry had his mom with him and I could sense the joy he felt in her presence
⚠ Тільки зареєстровані користувачі бачать весь контент та не бачать рекламу.
It was then I realized the enormous happiness Vikki must feel, having some forty loved ones near her at all times.
With all the rules today about what travelers can’t bring on a flight, maybe we’d all be a little more pleasant if we focused on the things we can bring and make sure they are what make us happy or at least smile, smile, smile.
Marta placed her fingers over his lips. “Shhh,” she hushed him. “I do love you, Edward. I always have. And because of that, all I really want is your happiness. Go to her.” As she gazed up at him, he saw
⚠ Тільки зареєстровані користувачі бачать весь контент та не бачать рекламу.
⚠ Тільки зареєстровані користувачі бачать весь контент та не бачать рекламу.
Yss