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Measuring Up... or Not!


It's almost Thanksgiving. This morning, as we unloaded cranberry sauce and a rutabaga into our small cupboards, I suddenly thought of these 2 sweet pictures I found the other day. They were taken a long time ago. Two intent little faces with their backs against the closet door, standing as tall as they could.


The grandchildren, ages 12 and 2, were frequent visitors to our house and each time they arrived we marveled at how they'd grown. So, every so often, we'd ask them to stand next to the closet door in the kitchen and Dan would measure them ever-so-precisely with a level, to show how tall they'd become. Then, he'd enter the date next to it. We did the same with all the grandkids. And the marks on the side of the door grew into quite a complete height chart.


We had the adults stand there as well. Colin was the tallest and his son, Greydon, was the smallest for a long time. When I first began to take Pilates, I was certain I was getting taller as my core grew stronger and I stood more upright. As a matter of fact, over those first few years, I "grew" 3/4 of an inch as I stood more erect. That was all recorded on the door. Proof!


The small closet door in our kitchen held a special significance because it recorded so much history. The rest of the closet was always filled with things that didn't fit into the cabinets and drawers. Perennial favorites like bottles of seltzer, coffee filters, paper plates, dish towels, and a sack of potatoes all shared shelf space. Once in a while, we'd open the door and a giant bag of chips would fly down from the top, where only Dan could reach it. But, we opened that door mostly to measure somebody.


It's the holidays once again. The 12 year old granddaughter is now over 30 and expecting her own child this winter and the 2 year old is off to college. Their heights haven't changed much the past few years. But the kitchen has undergone a face lift.


Several years ago, we resurfaced the cabinets and installed a nice wood floor. The crew who came to upgrade the place were professional and thorough. It wasn't until a couple of days after they removed the debris that we realized the closet door had gone with them.


We've tried to do the same thing with our new door... but it's not quite the same. First of all, I'm not "growing" any more and don't want to know if I'm shrinking. Secondly, we can't say to the next intent little child that they're almost as tall as Greydon was when he was 5 years old.


These "new door" kids will have to stand on their own. That probably means it's time to recognize that when one door closes (or gets thrown away) another one opens. Right?


May new doors open for you over the holidays.









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