Navigating

This past weekend was a nice one. I saw an excellent movie called American Fiction with good friends followed by a great dinner out. I managed to clean my house which was very satisfying.

On Saturday night I texted Dad and asked if I could invite myself to breakfast the next day. He responded that I was welcome, and added that he’d just gotten word that Pete would be coming for a visit around noon. Pete was my boyfriend in high school, and after our relationship ended he remained pretty close with my parents. As time went on, he married, and life happened and there was less communicating, so it was nice to know they’d get some time with him. The last time I saw Pete was at least six years ago and he was with his family. It was so nice to meet his kids and his wife, and I spent the evening with them chatting with his wife over dinner.

I looked forward to being able to talk to him a bit as it would be, gosh, I don’t know, fifteen years since we’d had a conversation?

Mom, Dad, Pete, Winnie, Harlow and I were chatting by the fire in the living room (it’s bitter cold here), and Mom started to tell a story about the time she was at a party with Dad back when he was in the Navy, and how the party host collected navigational tools. As she told the story, I recognized the item she was talking about. An item which, as it turns out, she went home with that night because the host simply gave it to her.

I turned in the couch I was sitting on and looked exactly where the object of the discussion – an extremely heavy gyroscope which was part of a guidance system for a WWII torpedo – sat. Right where it has been for as long as I remember existing myself. I have a vivid memory as a child of spinning the wheels and gears and getting my little fingers pinched in them. It could still be done today – getting your fingers pinched – but it would require work as it’s more tailor made for pinching kid-sized digits.

I handed it over to Pete who inspected it carefully and for a long time. His career in the Coast Guard making this object one of great interest. Watching him inspect it reminded me of how, even when we were teens, he was always observant and curious about puzzles and how things worked.

A few hours later, Pete got up to use the restroom and I got up to take my leave. “Hand me the gyroscope, I want to give it to Pete” Mom said to me, pointing to the back of the couch where I’d returned her party favor earlier. I hesitated, and Mom said “It’s mine and I can give it to him if I want to”

I knew this full well of course, as I also knew that if anyone was to be given this item, Pete was the perfect choice as he would appreciate it most. While logic knew this, my gut was telling me something else. Of course I contained my reticence and handed it over to Mom.

I reflected on this later and came to realize what was going on inside me when this interaction took place. To back up slightly, Mom has been putting great effort into pairing down her belongings in their big house. I kept a few sentimental items she purged from her Christmas collection, but for the most part, none of it has given me pause.

Until this gyroscope thing came along. I realized I literally do not remember a time when the object was not there, on the table behind the couch, on the left side. Along with the memory of of its location comes the specific memory of me being a physically smaller human, unable to pick up the heavy thing, playing with it in the dim room, mostly lit by fire light, spinning it and pinching my index finger in it. I can even see my small hands when I think of it.

I don’t know if I have any other objects in the house that I can associate with a physical memory as a result of interacting with it. It’s removal felt like a removal of something much more than a gyroscope.

And, and this is most important, it should belong to Pete.

I texted him later, thanking him for visiting and telling him how nice it was to see him. I asked him to photograph the gyroscope for me, adding that I was so glad it was in his hands (I didn’t want him to think in any way that I had an issue with it, because I certainly do not). He obliged.

I won’t share photos of Pete here since I didn’t ask for permission, but I do have the shot he took of the gyroscope, and one of the pups tolerating each other.