Eileen Loveman Daily Posting

For all intents and purposes, it seems I began my life and settled it all within the contents of a suitcase.
 
I’ve written about it before, both metaphorically and literally.    I called it "The Purple Suitcase", and it was mainly a compilation of my thoughts, with the pollyana happy ending that my true love would know enough to tell me to put it away, my need to question and search was over.  I had not yet met Stephen.
 
Purchased in 1972, to begin what I thought was going to be the first of many traveling adventures, it was the first thing I packed when I eloped.
 
Several years later, it is what I used to take what was of value with me to travel across the country, another grand adventure to my 22 year old mind.
 
The following year I moved to Philadelphia for a job, young son and purple suitcase in tow.  It soon became the kitchen table in a one bedroom apartment, where we ate our breakfast and planned our days.  He to daycare and I to work, it was a grim reminder that all adventures are not necessarily of the pleasant kind.  But I was young and had the wanderlust, so it’s effects didn’t appear until years later.
 
Twenty five years past and it stood in the corner of the basement of a high priced colonial house, soon to be dug out again to hold all that was dear to me.  I was alone this time, and it faced me, silent and empty, waiting for me to decide what was important and what was not.
 
I took it with me, but it was empty.
 
It’s final destination was to the place where I am now, the final lap in a journey of a lifetime spent searching and wandering.   Of course it was filled with what was true and good, mostly the memories of my children, adults now with suitcases of their own.
 
Which is what this column is really about. 
 
They’ve all packed their suitcases in their own way and in their own time; it is the natural progression of things.  But for the one whose journey had been interrupted, it was a tearful and joyous occasion to be packing at all.
 

My youngest daughter Mary left for New York City, to finish college and to continue the final chapter of the story she has written, although only the beginning of her newest adventure.

“Come and see what I bought” she said to me, a sad smile on her face as I walked in to her room for the last time.   Her back to the window, she stepped aside to show me the item she had purchased to take her to her new life and forever severing her dependence on me.
 
A purple suitcase.
 
We looked at each other, eyes locked and the unspoken words hanging in the air like dew on the flowers.  All the harsh words and the teenage fights melted away as the sun rose behind us and we watched its ascension over the lake.
 
She was leaving for good this time, and would not be coming back as the same person.  Her purple suitcase would be filled with her own memories, both the good and the bad, taking her where she needed to be.
 
It was empty.  But I don’t think it will stay that way for long.