Sunday, March 29, 2009

My Button-Pin Collection

I went to a Flea Market on Saturday and passed a booth where a girl was selling handmade button-pins. Some stupid but most pretty funny. I thought how I'd like having one or two of them just because the art was cute or the phrase was clever, but I don't really "do that" because it's too much of a statement (I like to make my own). Then I remembered how my brother Reed liked pins and collected funny ones... "I know Karate and ten other Japanese words." He might have gotten one just for fun. And something happened to me that never has before, not really like this... I missed his company. I felt like I'd just seen a semblance of his personality, and even if it was the tiniest bit of one, it made my eyes mist over and my throat bunch into a ball. I wished so badly that he was alive. Reed died when I was four, so I have a small handful of memories. Each one self contained, like a button-pin picture of love. This little collection will never be added to, but it means more and more to me over the years. I can never forget any second of these bright memories. I have always felt the loss, but it's been a calm sadness most times.

I had to move on to another booth so the girl wouldn't see me cry over funny button-pins.


  1. Makes my throat ache, too. I was thinking about Reed just yesterday, actually, and wondering what he would be like now, had he lived. I feel the loss acutely in the sense that our children won't know him in this life; I find myself trying to explain who he was and it's just too hard--how do you condense a person's personality into bite-size pieces?

    The pictures bring lots of good memories back. It's good to have those. Button pins.

  2. Thanks Qait, it was so good to see Reed's face again. I've missed him oh so much. At the time of his death he'd been the friend I'd had the longest. I, too, have my own little stash of mementos. He was an amazing young man, funny, smart, entertaining, and...romantic. His smile was so contagious and people gravitated to him. I teared up reading your blog. I have so many happy memories... A friend of mine from high school used to say that she looked forward every day to what Reed would have in his pockets. It was always something new and interesting. One day he brought a little bunch of electronic parts held together with clay and told her it was a bomb. She didn't know whether to believe him or not! I have that little bomb. I can vouch it's not real, just another interesting thing to carry in your pocket!

  3. Awesome pix Qait. Thanks for the memories. He is loved! And happy, I'm sure.

  4. oh Qait!!!
    well said...
    by the way, you look so cute biting that basket in the photo...

  5. I feel like a voyeur, reading such beautiful thoughts about a loved one I don't know, so I wanted to at least tell you I was here, and that I was happy to hear from you over in my corner of blogland.

    I'll be back, Qait.


  6. It's Liz here, even though I'm logged in as Pat. Thank you Qait! Tears. I'm crying but it is nice. I wish he was here, but I know he's probably doing missionary work in heaven, and I know I'll see him again and that "all will be well" when I do. It is so refreshing to see his face. Thank you so much for posting these pictures. Thank you thank you thank you for sharing your feelings as you looked at button pins. Wonderful of you. I love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  7. K, so I actually followed a random link to get here. And then I see that you are Rae's sister. Small world. :) I love her.

    I love this post. I can't totally relate, but it did make me cry. The photos and button pin memories are beautiful.


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