Here it is. The sad gerbil. Heartbreaking, isn’t it. The frown. Did the gerbil miss me while I was away at camp? Is the gerbil just a fill-in for Sarah? Did she miss me?
I love this piece of notebook paper, so lovingly crafted into mixed-media artwork. The letters in bold marker and the attention-to-detail strokes of the crayon-colored gerbil fur. I love thinking about the time Sarah took to create this masterpiece. She was likely just 6 years old, as the rest of my gerbil-mentioning camp letters were from 1984.
And here we are, 25 years later. And my collection of my own kids’ artwork grows daily. And I groan at the piles of chart paper covered with paint globs. And the popsicle stick/Q-tip masterpieces (beaver dams?) that adorn my windowsills. The pinecone-and-leaf-glued mosaics that drop organic dust throughout the house and the seasons until I deconstruct them and ditch what’s left into the garden out back.
But as my kids add their own To’s and From’s to their artwork, it becomes more difficult for me to recycle it. There is something about a To Mommy that just gets right to my heart. And maybe that’s what is at the crux of the sad gerbil. The care with which Sarah made sure I knew this drawing was For Me. From Her. Notice her signature includes the initial of our last name. Remember Momalom’s mom’s nickname post? Well, Sarah has a few of nicknames of her own.
And here I digress for a bit to share with you this: When Sarah was learning to write her name, she had a bit of trouble. Don’t we all? And there was more than one Sarah in her class. So she was always Sarah G. And so, as she has continued to do in her life, she just went with it. She practiced her letters and mastered them—to her own liking at least—and for a long time she wrote her name SHA G. Close enough. The teachers knew which paper was hers, I guess. And we all started calling her … Shag. Which quickly turned into Shaggy. Which stuck. My Sweetie always refers to her as Shaggy (though rarely if ever calls her Shaggy to her face). And he didn’t even meet her until 14 years post-gerbil.
So, a picture of a gerbil. And the attention with which it was created. For Jennie. From Sarah. And all of the memories that go with it. And everything that has grown from those memories. I’m quite sure Shaggy had no idea the power of those crayons and markers 25 years ago. And I will try my best to remember this as I sort through the overwhelming piles of creations of my own children and try to decide what to frame, what to add to the keepsake box, what to deconstruct and what to recycle.
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This sad gerbil makes for a happy Aidan. How wonderful it must be to look at that winning image and go back 25 years. Thanks for this. I will now be much more careful with Toddler’s artwork (especially her little notes to her little sister. Yes, she writes them already. She’s smart like that!)
Thanks for sniffing out that scanner. Well worth it!
Twitter: ADonnRowley
OOh. I love that your girls already have a correspondence going. Even if it is one-sided right now. I wonder what happened to any notes I may have written to Sarah …
Twitter: MomalomJen
Thanks so much for sharing another piece of your sisterly lives. I feel really old now, though, as I realize that you – and probably a good deal of your readers – are closer in age to my children than to me. LMAO!
Twitter: NickiinNY
We are so gratified by the presence of mother readers with more experience and wisdom. Keep laughing. And keep sharing your truths with us!
Twitter: MomalomJen
Do you see the budding brilliance in my early works? I mean, really, look how I used Red, then Orange, then Yellow in the text. Clearly Green was missing and I pushed right onward to Blue.
Genius, I tell you. Genius.
Love,
Shaggy
PS: Tell J I love it that he calls me Shaggy. That you both do when referring to me. Makes we want to bark out loud!
Twitter: Momalom
I’m such a geek that I’m gonna reply to MYSELF.
But I just wanted to point out the very bold “LOVE” on the back of the note. And yeah, I’ve never been shy to write it loudly, have I?
Twitter: Momalom
Okay. See below comments for appropriate adoration. But, um, when I first saw the bold “LOVE” showing through the paper, I briefly thought that the sad gerbil was also pooping, in some cute little-kid-drawing way.
Okay, now go read below so you don’t hate me.
Yes. Genius. You always have been the little genius of the family. Tortured genius at times. (Oops, this is a public forum, sorry.)
Also, sometimes Shaggy becomes Shaggerific. So, I guess Geege-arondack kinda runs in the family, ya know?
Twitter: MomalomJen
Okay, it’s official. I will now be much kinder and gentler to Husband and his propensity for hanging on to everything from his childhood. Obviously, your sisterly bond would be well intact even without Mr. Gerbil surfacing during Jen’s cleaning jag, but what a beautiful testament to your shared history and shared creativity.
And, yes, Sarah, I love that the word “LOVE” seeps through from the back of the page. Say it loud and say it proud!
Twitter: Motherese
YES! The infamous gerbil picture surfaces! And it’s a stunner! I had to laugh because the first thing I noticed was that it was signed: Sarah G. and I thought, WTF?
On a side note, I have a “Shaggy” nickname, too! When I first started teaching high school, Austin Powers had just come out. I wasn’t married then, so my last name was, alas, Hagmeyer. Glamorously, it means “turnip farmer” in German. Once of my students (the cheeky brat) started referring to me as Miss Shagmeyer. Which all the dorks found hilarious. Eventually, it got shortened to “Shags.”
Way to garner respect in your chosen field.
Shagmeyer. I like it. Quite a compliment from the high school set, m’dear (you know, in a sick, high school way).
Twitter: MomalomJen
These treasures are priceless. Even the little frown. (And the French!)
Twitter: BigLittleWolf
Merci. Beaucoup.
Twitter: MomalomJen
That gerbil is a work of art. I noticed the LOVE before I read the names. I think it was both written and implied. ;)
Twitter: millermix
Love. Love, love, love this.
I am not a keeper. I am a thrower-awayer. My husband sometimes tells the kids not to stand in one place for too long or I will throw them out with his Economist magazines. Clutter makes me antsy.
But. At last count, I had 374 drawings of dinosaurs from Evan. If he keeps drawing I’ll end up on that show about hoarders. I will never, ever throw one away.
Especially not after this post.
So nice. So very, very nice.
374, you say? B has just started drawing self portraits. We don’t have enough wall space, drawer space, FLOOR space for them all. But in every single one his is smiling, and I can’t bear to recycle those smiles. His own drawings tell me what I need to be told: He IS a happy kid, not as tortured as he so often seems to me. He sees himself as happy, and he is showing me this. So, I understand the 374. And that the Economists? Gotta go. Isn’t there an online archive or something?
Twitter: MomalomJen
I now feel so much better about the hundreds of pieces of artwork I’ve held onto and are taking up valuable space throughout my house. 25 years from now we’ll surely appreciate them!
I just love the “To’s” and “From’s”. It illustrates so much clearer who the artist has in mind when creating the masterpiece. I always wonder if the recipient is decided before or after the art is completed. I think Hannah decides AFTER depending on how her work comes out. Of course the best ones go to mommy. :)
once again, such a sweet portrayal of your sisterly love. Love it.
Twitter: dramaformama
Curious if you’ve started lining up a week’s worth of hangover cures…
Twitter: BigLittleWolf
Is it inappropriate if I say it is “shag-licious”? Is it too Austin-Powerish for ya? I have always wondered what it is like to have a sister. I watch my sister-in-law with her two sisters with envy (the good kind, not the evil kind, if this makes any sense). Having a sister just seems to make the world so much less lonely. Watching my husband with his brother I don’t get that kind of feeling. Perhaps I am romanticizing this whole thing, but somehow your post makes feel that yes indeed I am missing something precious.
It is indeed precious. And the reason I still hold out hope for a daughter. But I guess I would really need to have two. And that? Probably not going to happen.
Twitter: Momalom