Tag / year

by Kelly Mattei

A Picture Tells a Story

A picture tells a story.

At the end of every year since I got an Instagram account, I go back through all the photos I posted for that year. Recently I went back through my Instagram photos for 2019, and I truly realized that some of the pictures really tell stories.

My first post for 2019 was a photo at the Charlotte airport…not much of a story except that we were starting vacation…meeting friends from Ohio in LA. But the next picture, a photo of me and my friend from Ohio, Jenn, tells a real story.

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Sure, looking at the photo above, all you see is two friends on a chilly day with the Pacific Ocean in the background. But what I see is love. Having just survived the first anniversary of my mother’s death (she died December 30, 2017), I was still reeling. I was feeling lost. And then we arrived in Los Angeles, and Jenn and her daughter arrived. After telling her what a terrible day that first anniversary on December 30 had been (there were additional factors at play)…and crying…Jenn made me feel better. Jenn, the perpetual ray of sunshine, hugged me, listened to me, and made me feel loved. So every time I come across that one single photo that looks completely nondescript and meaningless to everyone else in the world, I remember how much better she made me feel. I can look at my face in that picture and see the pain melting away. I see the relief in my eyes and in my face. That picture reminds me that good friends are hard to find. And that picture reminds me that when we find good friends like Jenn, we need to keep them.

There are other photos from 2019 that stand out for me. In fact, any photos I post on Instagram, I share for a reason…maybe I think they’re funny or cute…maybe I want to share something cool…or maybe there’s another meaning behind the picture. Of course, when I posted the picture of me and Jenn, I had no idea how powerful the picture was for me. It was only when I was looking through pictures a few months later that I saw it again, and the meaning behind it floored me. Instagram photos certainly tell stories…maybe not to the casual observer, but to the originator of the post. Most of my photos tell stories of family, friendship, and love. And then there are some that tell different stories…like this photo of me and my daughter in front of Mars Cheese Castle in Kenosha, Wisconsin.

The story? In 2015, I took a crazy road trip with my friend, Mary Ann, and our kids. We spent a few nights in Chicago, and while we were there, I had hoped to get the kids up to Wisconsin…just so they could add another state to their list of “states visited.” There was a Six Flags amusement park we could have visited just over the line, but that would have taken too much time, so instead, I suggested Mars Cheese Castle, a giant cheese store shaped like…you guessed it…a castle. We never made it in 2015, and I regretted it. So in 2019, when I was in Chicago with my daughter and one of her friends, we made a quick trip up to Kenosha to visit Mars Cheese Castle. You can see how happy I was!

Those are just a couple of examples of how pictures tell stories, but I can look at every picture on my Instagram account and remember stories and conversations behind them. Right now, though, I keep going back to that picture of me and Jenn. I need to call her and thank her for being a good friend.

 

by Kelly Mattei

One Year of Blogs

I say it all the time, and the older I get, the more true it is: time flies.

It has been one year since I started “blogging.” I started it as my own form of therapy a month after my mother died, and I do believe it has helped me cope with her death. If you had asked me about that this past December, I might have said otherwise. The first anniversary of her passing was extremely difficult for me…maybe harder than when she actually died. I think I was in so much shock after her death that I didn’t fully digest what had happened. At the one year mark of her death, I was heartbroken. Fortunately, the holidays are a busy time, so I could find lots of things to occupy my mind: shopping, parties, wrapping gifts, spending time with family, spending time with friends. I still grieved throughout the year. There are still times I think I’m losing my mind with grief. But the blog was also a big help.

The blog has morphed somewhat over the year. Originally, I wanted it to be a place where I could share great things I had found and share the stories behind them. There has been some of that, but sometimes, I find myself just sharing stories. I love a good story. I also have a pretty good memory, so I have a story for lots of things that happen. I don’t profess to be a great storyteller, but I appreciate folks who are.

I love writing about my favorite products, but my favorite pieces are stories about my life, my friends, or family members. Yes, I have favorites. I’ll list them at the end of this piece.

Just when I think I’ve run out of stories or new things to share, something else pops up. Lots of times, I see someone or something that reminds me of something else. I make a note in my phone, and then, when I get time, I sit down and write about it. That doesn’t mean it’s always easy. Some things are easier to write about than others.

But here’s the thing: I write for me. Do I like that people read it and sometimes reach out to me? Of course I do! Does that make it more fun? You bet! But I’m really writing it for a selfish reason: my sanity. It’s a great outlet. If I’m mad, sometimes I write about it. I might not ever share it, but it’s saved in my “drafts” folder. If I’m sad, I write about it, and again, it might not make it past “drafts.” If I’m happy or amused, I might write about that too! In fact, I just took a look at my drafts folder and found that I have about 240 blogs in that folder! And I’ve published just over 140. And hopefully, one day, when I’m long gone, my daughter will still have some of my stories.

Thank you for reading me. I never expected this to become “the next big thing.” I expected it to help me get through the first year without my mother. And it did. Now, I hope it will help me through the second year without my mother. Readers have sent me messages about how some of my stories remind them of things that have happened in their own lives. That’s what I enjoy. I enjoy the feedback. I enjoy the interaction.

So thank you. I’m grateful.

***Some of my favorite pieces from the past year (click on title):

 

 

 

 

 

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by Kelly Mattei

Same Gift, Different Year

Every year of her life, our 15-yr-old daughter has received a sled for Christmas. It’s a staple. It’s just part of Christmas at our house. Without a doubt, every year, she knows she will come downstairs on Christmas morning and find a sled. She has quite a collection now.

Did any member of your family receive a yearly  gift?

When I was growing up, we always knew, without a doubt, there would be an electric train for my brother under the tree on Christmas morning. And Santa never failed. There were countless trains, but the best ones were the ones with a fat power box with a switch that just made them go forward or backward, fast or slow.

For whatever reason, it was always the most popular gift in the family. What’s so entertaining about watching a train go in a circle? But there was something about it. I think we set up little people at different “stations” around the track and pretended we were picking up the people or cargo when we made stops.

While I don’t remember the all the details of how we played, I know we played with those trains a lot…on Christmas Day.

Usually, about halfway through the afternoon, we’d smell something burning. The first couple of years, we weren’t quick to identify it, but later, we knew right away…the control box was on its last leg. It was an electrical “fire” we were smelling…inside the overheated control box, and we knew the fun of the train was almost over. It usually happened when Daddy was playing with it, but he would never admit it. As adults, we laugh about how he enjoyed the train more than any of us.

Fortunately for our daughter, a sled doesn’t cause electrical fires. And most Christmas mornings in Charlotte, there’s no snow, so no one even touches the sled that day.

But when it finally snows, it’s always the most popular gift in the house!

Because my husband and I grew up in south Alabama, we didn’t have the opportunity to go sledding when we were growing up. In fact, when my family moved into one house, my brother and I found a couple of sleds that had been left by the previous owners. We had a big, tree-filled hill behind our house, and since we rarely had snow, we would go “leaf sledding.” We’d “sled” down that leaf-covered hill, dodging trees along the way. It was fun (and dangerous), but it wasn’t snow sledding.

Sure, you can visit ski resorts, but there is nothing as much fun as “home snow.” There’s nothing like racing down the neighborhood hills on sleds in the snow…with all the neighborhood kids. We know that now, because now that I live in North Carolina, we get to go sledding occasionally. We buy lots of junk food and hot chocolate mix beforehand, and we invite friends over…young and old…and we go sledding. Our daughter now has a big collection of sleds, so there are plenty to go around, but you know what happens…we all want to take a turn (or two) on the new sled.

Generally speaking, my husband stays out for about 15 minutes. I’ll stay out for an hour or two. Our daughter stays out all day with friends. She always knows our sledding time will be short, so she doesn’t mind letting us take the new sled for a trip or two down the hill.

This year, she’ll get another sled. It’s supposed to be even faster than the super-fast one she got last year, which was faster than the super-fast one she got the year before.

And we’ll wait for snow…

***If you’re interested in a toy train for someone in your family this year, Amazon has an assortment. You can shop here. I’m not in the market for one, but if I were, I’d probably purchase this one. They also have an assortment of sleds here.***