THE EMPTY KEYCHAIN

by Danna Shirley

          Have you ever thought about how your keychain defines you? I was pondering mine the other day with all of its tags from the local businesses I frequent—Family Christian Stores,  Petco, Kroger, Lowes, Club Lifeblood, Memphis Public Library, and of course the Bartlett Senior Center where I attend my favorite weekly class of Creative Writing.

Then the keys are added for my house, my car, two at my church, my fireproof safe, and my daughter’s house. My keychain defines me by where I shop and how many keys I possess. When I moved to Napa, California to live with my sister, I removed each, one by one, from my possession.

There was no Family Christian Store in Napa. No Christian bookstore at all. Ugh! Leave that one behind.

My Sweetie Petey teacup poodle had been given to a good home—no more Petco dog food purchases. Give that one to my daughter for her cockapoo, Mozzie.

California has Safeway groceries, not Kroger. Leave that one behind.

Living with my sister wouldn’t require any repairs from Lowes. Leave behind.

No Club Lifeblood in Napa to continue the tally on my donations. Leave behind.

No Memphis (TN) Public Library in Napa (CA). Leave behind.

No Creative Writing class at the Napa Senior Center. Leave behind.

Keys give us a sense of status by how many can we possibly have on our keychain?

My house key was left with Theresa, a friend from church who rented my house.

My car keys were left with my daughter, as was my car.

The keys to the church office were sadly returned to my pastor. I would have to find a new church in Napa. 

I left the key to my fireproof safe inside and stored it in my daughter’s closet. It contained only birth certificates, passports, pictures, etc. for safekeeping.

·        I returned the spare key to my daughter’s house because I wouldn’t be close enough to pop in for a visit anymore. 

I left Memphis with an empty keychain. How sad is that? It was like I had faded into the sunset. I had no more status. No keys to define my importance. Even a maintenance man has keys to every room in a building—he is very important. I was lost.

I arrived in Napa to be caregiver to three members of my family, my mother, my sister, and my brother-in-law. My sister gave me her extra car key, credit card, and garage door opener. My mother gave me her house key and credit card, and I use her car whenever I drive her to appointments, shopping, etc.

I have found a wonderful church family at Napa Valley Baptist. I have always had a church key in the past because I have volunteered in the office everywhere I’ve lived. However there will be no volunteering @ NVBC for I’m too busy with my family.

My keychain is filling up again. Hallelujah! I’m alive and well and living in Napa, California.