20 dollars worth of memories

Tonight I was packing boxes.

Packing for a move to another city, another place, another job. Its time for something new, and I am excited about it. I have been throwing things out for the last few weeks in preparation of this possibility, or another possibility that has been on the horizon. And because I can be a bit of a pack rat.

Clothes, papers, books, bits and pieces of tech crap thats broken or outdated. Lots of junk has gone, mostly to charity – or recycling of some kind. Nice to put things back if I can.

So far I have packed my DVD's, CD's and tonight I was packing books. Amongst them are some that I am not sure what to do with.

It was 2001 James and I were trying to make a move to San Francisco happen. James' move was certain but mine was sill in the air. Plan A was looking shaky and so I was working a Plan B, namely to take an assignment with my then employer in London. How this was going to get me closer to San Francisco is a long story, just trust me that it seemed like a good idea.

I was really excited about going, but really not looking forward to being separated from James. As a way to cheer me up and help me focus on the posative, he bought me a book – Fodors Guide to London.

This is the book I found tonight.

I sat up in bed at night reading it, and reading the best bits out loud to James. I was so excited about going, there were so many things I wanted to see there. The book still has my notes in it and the red tabs on pages of interest. I am always so excited about travel, about the things I will see, the people I will meet, how the air will smell, how the food will taste. James was always much more cautious about travel. Will he be able to get breakfast cereal, will he be able to find away around, what if he gets lots, how do the phones work.

Very different approaches, and it tells you a lot about who we both are as people. One impulsive and daring, a dreamer; the other careful and sensible, a planner. Neither is right, neither is wrong. In truth the approaches are complimentary – if you can make the balance work, trust each other.

This book started something of a tradition for us. Whenever we were going somewhere, I would buy a book for James. A book to help him see, the excitement, the possibilities. They worked, a little. He became more adventurous for a while. For a while tonight I sat on the floor flipping through these travel books, remembering the excitement on his face when we talked about going places together – London, San Francisco, the Caribbean, Vancouver, Orlando. Very happy memories.

Flipping through the London book tonight, something fell out. A twenty dollar bill that had been pressed between the pages.

Another gift from James.

He worried about me, that something might go wrong or I might be in trouble – and so he put $20 into the book as emergency money. He is a very sweet man and he always watched out for me. He couldn't take care of me in London so he did little things like this to try and make sure I would be OK.

I am not a child, I been to more places, walked in more timezones than he has, and I can take care of myself. Rather than be insulted by his gesture, I was flattered. Here was this big, handsome, robust man telling me in his typically non verbal way that I was important to him, that he cared about me.

I am not sure if I should keep the books, or give them back to him. of who they really belong to. I guess thats because they are shared, belong to us. I have carefully packed them away for now, along with a number of other treasured memories, and someday I hope he and I can sit down and share the memories of what they mean.