Notes From a Rock Collector's Daughter

People collect all kinds of things…stamps, thimbles, LPs, coins, over-priced novelty teddy bears, children from poverty-ridden nations, guns, sex toys, Star Wars action figures. I have always been fascinated by the things people choose to collect but personally, I decided awhile back to avoid accumulating much more than music and memories. (OK, let’s be real…And sun glasses). Perhaps one of the most intriguing collections I've encountered is my mom’s rock collection. To clarify, I’m not talking about precious stones, rubies or emeralds…no Mom has always had an affinity for the blue collar rocks…that round grey rock, weighing about 1-2 pounds, nestled among hundreds of other grey rocks similar in form and weight on the riverbank. The rocks that thousands of people have walked over or sat on since the beginning of time, rocks which go unnoticed with the exception of the occasional toker, contemplating the origin of the

universe through glazed eyes. Mom’s theory on rocks runs parallel to her theory on people—If you take the time to really look at them from every angle, you discover their unique beauty. Sometimes you have to roll a rock around in your hand for quite a while before you notice something special about it. This takes time which most people don't claim to have in today's world. But mom would always be the first to see that special something…a slightly curved line resembling a smile, the trunk of an elephant, the subtle imprint of a fern, or a curious black spot. My brothers and my dad and I, have been hauling rocks in our pockets and backpacks for years—from The White Nile in Uganda, the Ottawa Valley in Canada, Rio Piedra in Colombia, the Arizona desert, the stream by my house in Montecristo, El Salvador, even from the parking lot behind Target. Mom places the rocks in a special place on the deck of the house, in piles, in circles, painted and bare. Although by now she must have over 500, she could still tell you about the origin of half of them. The only thing mom manages to collect more than rocks are people to love—because as a happy wanderer in the rocky path of life, she knows that that any ordinary stranger is just someone extraordinary that you haven’t understood yet.