if a suitcase could talk
It’s ready, ready to go, finally every decision made; what to wear and when to wear it; which shoes, which outfits. Will they be warm enough? Will they be too warm? Can’t be sure; don’t know. Can’t even imagine it will be hot when it’s so cold here. Well, I jumped over that decision. Covered the problem, taking something wool just in case.
And then, of course, if I really get stuck I can always buy something to cover the missing garment. At least for this trip, the suitcase is ready. The big final zip has been given and this jaunty red and blue is ready to roll. Well, not really roll. It’s a little old fashioned; no wheels but it looks portable. A packed and zippered suitcase fills me with the elixir of trip excitement. That wonderful equation with change of scene, change of pace, change of routine and change of experience all coming into play. Going out of the known into the unknown even if the destination is familiar.
There’s got to be something we like about this process or the suitcase wouldn’t be packed and ready to go. No stickers on the suitcase telling where it has been. Alas, that doesn’t work anymore but those old gay, giddy suitcases with colorful exotic stickers always got me. Hong Kong, London, Singapore, far away cities, exciting ports. The suitcase covered with these evocative stickers beckoned to me just by being there. Let’s go. Let’s see what it’s like. Got my mind spinning and then, when the suitcase got the sticker, what pleasure just to see it at a later time. The memory of the time and the place revitalized, renewed. All these images are there, pulled from some corner of my mind that had let them rest but kept the field of recollections be fallow.
Oh, little suitcase, if you could only talk and tell of the many places you’ve been. Many hotel rooms you’ve been in and the many clothes you’ve carried. Do you have a favorite place, a favorite outfit, a favorite person or is your only demand that you be moved from the attic and packed, because you’re always ready to go?