The Poket of memories

(This is the first time I write an article on my blog in English, I apologize for the mistakes or misunderstandings, it’s so hard writing something personal in another language so all suggestions and feedbacks are very welcome!)


I always hated how my mother managed her portfolio, banknotes with coins, points card of the supermarket sales receipts all together in disorder.

When I took out one of her jackets, the same thing happened, in his pockets I could find so many things, a hair band, a half-eaten candy, car keys…

I’ve always been a too tidy person, sometimes in the past I shared the underwear and clothes by color, I was little bit crazy maybe.

I do not live without my diary where I write all I have to do, is like a drug for me, it’s like the Linus blanket and I use the Moleskine only.

Today I went out hurriedly, without arranging the bed or the house, I had to choose between doing this or comb my hair, I wore one of two jackets I always use, have become like a second bag for me.

Really I do not use more my bag, I bought a backpack more comfortable when I have to run after my son, without forgetting something important somewhere in the park when I get up suddenly.

Just left my house I put a hand into the pocket of my green jacket and I found inside two coins for the funfair, a biscuit wrapped in a handkerchief, a used bus ticket and a small toy for my son…

I stopped to think in the middle of the street, I felt a warm wind on me full of memories, I felt stupid and confused.

Suddenly I realized how wrong I was because in my mother wallet and pokets there was no disorganization, there was simply….LOVE.


 If you liked what you read, share it please.little-rabbit



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