Or a dime or a nickel or a quarter.
My daughter hauled out her small sparkly silver sequin purse last night to count up her coins. This was one of my very favorite things to do when I was little, too. I would pour out the contents of my Tootsie Roll bank every so often and sort and count and recount the money. I loved the way the coins felt, the smell of the metal and challenging myself to add and subtract everything correctly.
My daughter’s coin sorting last night was much simpler. She focused on the dates and looked up at me, “1995?”
“That’s the year I won the pageant,” I told her.
“1955?” she asked. “Papa and Marmar were teenagers. They hadn’t met yet,” I said.
… And on we went… with her calling out years and me telling her something significant about them, something like this:
1989? — My second year of college. I was writing for the student newspaper back then.
1994? — I started my career in advertising.
1965? — Marmar and Papa celebrated their first anniversary.
2005? — You were born. (She later had me recap the entire year for her.)
1987? — I graduated high school.
1984? — I lived in Chicago. Freshman year of high school.
1999? — Just before the turn of the century.
2001? (and she frowned at me) — Yes, the towers fell. That was a difficult time.
1997? — I went to Paris.
1986? — I went to Morp. (<<Not the Sadie Hawkins/Turnabout version, but the “protest” version.)
1975? — I lived in Florida. AND it was the year before my all-time favorite quarter came out — the 1976 Bicentennial one! (It has stars, a music man, a special moment in history and more than one date stamped on it.) Love it!
1935? — Aunt V. was two years old.
2007? — I got my new car. (Which is now my old car, and is still being repaired as we speak.)
2011? — We got Kitty. We got Muncie a year later.
2013? — That was actually a really great year for me. “Me, too,” she told me… “13 is my favorite number, you know.” “Yes, I know, dear.”
. . .
And on that note, I reminded her to look at the clock. It was 12:20 in the morning. On a school night.
“That’s okay,” she told me. “I had a nap earlier.”
(And the year-by-year conversation continued until she ran out of money….)
2015? — The year I didn’t get any sleep??? Ha.
Actually, I cannot wait to see what happy things are coming my way this year! (Crossing my fingers.)