Old Shavings

I have this pencil sharpener on our kitchen wall. It's at least 40 years old, probably closer to 50. I got this pencil sharpener for a gift many years ago when I was a kid, and it hung on my bedroom wall in the house where I grew up. I used to quite a bit back then, and over the years it got used quite a bit here at home. But it doesn't get used a whole lot anymore even though it still works great.

Several days ago, I went to use it for the first time in I don’t know how long, and I found it was packed with shavings. I don't know how long it's been since it was last emptied, but I'm guessing it's been at least several years. After all, it has sat idle more often than not, for longer than I can remember.

I think the hay day for this thing was probably about 15 years or so ago. That would have been about the time that my three older kids were in elementary school. It got quite a workout back then. There were reports that were written and math problems to be solved- just about every night. And maybe more than anything, there were art projects. Sometimes these projects were school assignments, but more often than not, they were just for fun. Castles and landscapes and invading armies and so much more, all sprung to life from the tip of a pencil.

Over the years, as the kids got older, the sharpener was used less and less. Pencils faded to pens, and pens faded to computers. Home faded to college and college faded to life.

When I went to use it for the first time, in I don’t know how long, I found that the sharpener was packed solid with shavings. And as I opened it up, I stared at the tangled bird’s nest of colors and graphite - and I started to shake them into the trash. I thought about each of the shavings and how they were a product of some long ago creation, some distant memory - and for a brief moment I wondered if maybe I should stop, if maybe I should hang onto those shavings.

I decided that it would be foolish to save some old pencil shavings, and I continued to shake them away into the trash.

Ever since then, whenever I’m in the kitchen, I often catch myself glancing over at the pencil sharpener, and I catch myself thinking about those old shavings and how strange it is that I find myself missing them.