Inanimate objects have been treasured by humans since time immemorial. Sure, there are all the inanimate objects that surround us on a daily basis–as part of our daily lives. Objects in our homes, tools we use, clothes we wear. Thousands and thousands of objects.

And then, there are those ones that hold special meaning and in that special meaning, there is a power. A power to transport your brain–rushing through time, to arrive at a moment. Sometimes it’s the origin of the object. Maybe it was a gift. Maybe it was a memento or souvenir. Maybe it was handed down through your family for generations. Maybe you bought it and it’s not so much the object but what was going on in your life when you bought it. Every object may have memories, but some are powerful. No matter how small they are, or how inconsequential in the grande scheme of things.

I was rummaging around in a closet recently and came across a large zip lock bag full of old greeting cards I’d received. There were a couple from Mario in there. He never wrote much in cards, but seeing them brought me back to the occasion (valentine’s day and birthday in this case). I also found letters from one of my aunts (also now departed). Silently reading them, I heard her voice. I remembered receiving them in the mail and what was going on in my life during that time.

There are a couple objects that I’ve had laying around since May of 2020 now. I was originally reluctant to let go of them because of the meaning behind them. This was Mario’s last birthday gift from me. I had ordered them and planned it so that they would arrive the day before his birthday. I remember distinctly when they showed up in a large box. Mario was laying on the couch watching tv. By that point in the afternoon, he’d already consumed 2 bottles of wine and did not eat lunch or breakfast. I was hoping that there might be some way that this gift could entice him to check back into learning new things and wanting to do more than drink and watch tv.

I gave him the box to open and said it was his birthday gift. The set of Indian Tabla drums did bring a smile to his face and he gave me a huge hug. He did not really know how to play them, but he’d always talked about learning. He messed around with them for a little bit that day, then a few more days that week, then maybe a couple times a month, and then they ended up in the office space upstairs where they sat in their case.

After Mario died, I took them out of the case. I love Tabla drums in music, but I just never picked up the knack of playing them either. They’ve just been sitting in my office for almost 4 years now. These inanimate objects are ones that do not bring the greatest of memories to me, but they may bring joy to someone else. I have them up for sale now, so I am hoping they will bring a smile to someone else.