Great news… Walter is still alive! I have done what instructions directed and changed Walter’s water.  As I carefully pulled Walter out of his house to empty and refill the water, I noticed that his roots were noticeably longer than when I placed him in there two weeks ago.  Could he be growing? Not only have I not killed a plant but I have also allowed it to grow? How could this be?

And the lucky aspect of owning Walter? Well, don’t blow that off just yet.  The day after I got Walter, I got some unexpected news at work.  A new opportunity for me to explore and report with my writing.  Yeah, I thought.  “Could it be Walter?” I asked myself as soon as I spoke with my boss. 

Next thing, the week after I brought Walter home, I decided to tackle my brother’s old room.  I used this room for my art and crafting.  I love to scrapbook and this almost always took place here.  The problem was, I couldn’t even see my projects anymore.  This room had become sort of a catchall for all the leftover junk in the house.  It was embarrassing for anyone to see.  There was crap all over the floor and table.  Not only was it where my late mother kept all her magazines, old newspaper articles, and coupons she meant to use, it was a stash of old or unwanted items that were outdated or simply didn’t work anymore.

I paced myself and sorted through everything.  It was incredibly hard to go through many of my mother’s belongings.  I had two boxes, “to keep” and “charity” and then I had a garbage can.  I will say the garbage filled up the quickest, along with the “to keep” box of course.

The interesting thing was that this room was not only a series of booby trap newspaper avalanches but also a landmine of memories.  I found things I had never seen in my life.  Probably because these objects, just like the memories of our mind get lost in the shuffle of everyday life.

A newspaper article from 1969 about my Father winning the science fair for his traffic controller signal, detailing his meeting with a patent attorney.  A photograph of my grandmother with her mother.  My Great-grandmother looks so northern European (we are Norwegian on her side.)  Fresh off the boat, as they say.  A newspaper article on my Mother when she was just 16 about her work at the wildlife refuge.  And even an old copy of the paper that hit the presses the day after John F. Kennedy was shot.  A collector’s item, I thought.

I quickly separated these items into piles.  Mom’s side and Dad’s side.  Mom and Dad.  Then all of them went into acid free archival boxes to prevent them from further deterioration (archival preservation was a forte I took up after the death of my grandfather made me the inheritor of 100+ year old documents and photos. 

The bottom line? Now, not only do I have a clean “creating” room, I have boxes full of memories than now require some display ideas.  And the interesting thing, I think all of this is thanks to Walter, my $1.99 lucky bamboo plant.

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