Nooks and Crannies
In the nooks and crannies of my home, there are items of practical and sentimental value. There is the brush standing in its holder in the corner behind the toilet and the permanent black marker next to the boxed freezer bags in the pantry organizer. The nightstand drawer stows a pocket-sized New Testament with my maiden name sketched on the title page and atop that crowded nightstand lies a trinket box that safeguards my grandfather’s garnet ring.
My favorite purse has pocket crannies where I stash lip balm, tissues, gum, and other mini toiletries such as eye drops, dental floss, and hand sanitizer. Shelves on my bookcase store hardbacks and paperbacks plus folders filled with recipes, poems, drawings, and clipped articles. As always, there is also the infamous junk drawer with secret crevices of its own despite any attempt at organization.
Here and there about the house sit small mementos, scattered in seats designated “niches” because their specific purpose is to display and protect special objects. A rose enclosed in the skirt of a glass angel is the most current addition and thus currently occupies an honorable seat at the dining table until it gravitates to a permanent spot. Others include a “to Grammie” valentine butterfly, a mini-music box that plays “You Are My Sunshine” and a faded pink puppy who used to pronounce “You mean everything to me” at the press of a button.
Undoubtedly, an unpleasant thing about nooks and crannies is the dust, crumbs, and cobwebs that I find during deep cleaning. Under furniture, clinging to baseboards, or stuck on windowsills, I will discover gunk and grime that may have been there for months or years. If I could pressure wash indoors without harm, I would, but alas, rags, cleansers, and elbow grease must suffice.
My brain also has nooks and crannies, thoughts and memories that hibernate for periods but then appear unexpectedly while I am foraging my memory for something else. “Do I need to buy shampoo?” I ask myself and then picture my father’s Head and Shoulders sitting on the shower shelf in my childhood home. “Where did I leave my beaded flip-flops?” I wonder, then fondly remember the white foam thongs given out at my son’s wedding reception to all the guests whose feet hurt from dancing in dress shoes.
The recesses of my mind hold songs and melodies, landscapes and seascapes, traumatic and comical triggers, meals, and messes, and so forth. Just now, as I completed the previous sentence, Yul Brynner withdrew from a hollow that stores musicals and recited “et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.” The ruler of Siam repeated this invocation in The King and I so that he could impress upon everyone his breadth of vast knowledge and in so doing, deposited the expression in my memory bank.
Other phrases lurk in cubbyholes in my brain, too. When I walk behind someone, I sometimes hear my toddler proclaiming, “I’m follnuff you” (I’m following you) and during the Christmas season, captivating holiday lights prompt me to cry out “See some!” with the same excitement my siblings and I bellowed when colored displays delighted us as children. Thanks to the religious sisters who taught me in parochial school, “Offer it up” is another voice that creeps out from its corner hideaway, especially when I’m dealing with difficulties.
Unfortunately, my brain stockpiles doubt, guilt, regret, and resentment, too. Like animals that burrow underground, these feelings and emotions build lairs and refuse to vacate unless I take extraordinary means to eradicate them. Unlike the muck trapped under the fridge, I need to battle this clutter every day, hoping that if there is a way in, there is also a way out.
Recently, I heard a dialogue about the pitiful state of our planet that ended with, “Oh well, the world is still spinning on its axis.” For a brief two seconds, I misheard, “…spinning on its access,” allowing the imaginary line the Earth pivots on to seize entrance to my subconscious. Life is like spinning on an axis and there are days my inner being whirls in a flurry of longing and gratitude, grappling for access to peace of mind.
Every day, the globe completes its rotation making sunrises and sunsets a daily feature on the planet and it will continue to do so until the world ceases. From the ends of the earth to far beyond the stars, there are hidden blessings and unknown gifts for us to uncover. As for me, I will continue to search high and low, in every nook and cranny, leaving no surface unturned because each day, each hour, each minute is a new beginning, a unique opportunity to find joy.