Actually this is not my button collection, its Lindsey39 @ flickr.com. In other words I am using her photo. Not that I don't have a button collection because I surely do. A zillion of them to say the least. I was exercising one of my therapy options yesterday and today, which means doing something simple, such as "paper or plastic?," separating buttons into baby food jars. I had a little eye surgery so sitting is the thing to do for today. As I was playing with the buttons my psychic mind wandered and started to receive from the buttons in the beyond. That merely means I was sensing where some of my buttons had been. Then of course as usual I took off on my own with no help from spiritual button guides. I journeyed to wars, and women's beautiful silk and satin blouses of the thirties, nineteen thirties that is, and to hunters out in the swamps, murderer's even you know me always gettin the imagination going.) I thought about how many babies might have been conceived after "unbuttoning" some of my buttons. Or maybe a President donated some shirts of which the buttons ended up in my meager living room being sorted never knowing being able to share their importance. Hookers, Preachers, children, buttons from dead peoples clothing, Bankers, paupers, Kings and Queens, well I doubt that one. Factory workers, car salesmen, fat people, short people, skinny, tall, and mean people. Sweet people buttons, robbers buttons, little old ladies glass buttons, and probably a nurse and doctor buttons. Did a doctor save someone's life while dodding one of my buttons? Betcha. Teenage mouthy kids buttons, and maybe even an old relative down the line buttons. Someone probably gave the speech of their lives wearing my buttons. A college student surely graduated wearing my buttons. A child rode a horse for the first time, someone was given a surprise birthday party wearing my buttons. Someone went to prison for doing something illegal while wearing my buttons too. People went to church, grocery shopping, movies, to the bathroom, all on my button time. God I wish those buttons could talk. I guess they did. Someones Grandmother made Thanksgiving Dinner and Christmas dinner with my buttons hanging on them... some may have traveled the Oregon Trail to find gold. And some surely sang at the opera as well as visited it. I hope I have a couple that lived in a sky scrapper in New York or Chicago, and a couple that flew to Europe and back. I hope that none came from an old Teddy Bears eyes, or any from sad children's lives. But then we are just like the buttons aren't we? All mixed together, some shinier, some old and cracked, many different colors and shapes and sizes, and all with a different story....
