In Harry Potter, an old boot was spelled to become a port key, a magical device that when touched teleported all who touched it through space to another location.
We found a port key this weekend, which did one better than Harry’s. This is it.
Tim and I found it in a cigar box of Dad’s treasures. When we saw it, a 40 year old memory came back vivid detail, so vivid that we were both in the original location, with the original people, feeling the original feelings, touching the original furnishings, being those people and with those people.
We both began to laugh uproariously. Just behind the laughter was poignant sadness for the loss of the times and the people who populated them.
This port key returned Dad as Dad and not a lovely, but feeble man who needed to be cared for. I have had trouble finding those memories. To have one shoot back, full and rich was a powerful experience.
It’s sitting on my desk now, right in front of the monitor, a red plastic treasure to be contemplated.
Don’t forget to hide port keys. Thanks for this one, Dad.