12-29-02 Sunday Journal

POCKETS OF YOUR HEART
By Dalton Roberts
IPS Features

Isn't it interesting the little experiences and places you stick in the pockets of your heart?

There's a little tea room called Cozette's in one of my heart pockets. It may not still exist in the city of Black Mountain, North Carolina but it's still there in one of my heart pockets, as real as if I was still there.

You walked up this little stairway to the second floor and they handed you a quaint short menu of the teas and sandwiches they served. Most of the tables sat near windows where you could look down on people milling around town.

Just the name Cozette's endeared it to me. So did the owners - a couple of middle-aged ladies in plain dresses who reminded me of early Quakers or Mennonites.

My first-born son, Jeff, is sticking there in a heart pocket. The first time I saw him, my mind made a picture. He was born breech and his little feet stuck up in the air for several weeks. How beautiful was the moment!

Shirley Ramsey is in one of my heart pockets. She was my first sweetheart. We were in elementary school but I "claimed" her.  One day she was taking a bath in a washtub in her basement. She slipped and grabbed a light fixture. She died of electrocution. The world died for me and stayed dead for weeks. You never forget your first sweetheart. All you can do is put them in a heart pocket.

The stage of the Grand Ole Opry is in one of my pockets. Walking on that stage to sing was one of the great thrills of my life. I remembered seeing Hank Williams standing there singing "The Lovesick Blues." I felt lit up like a Christmas tree. The energy surge was incredible. I got a standing ovation. That's why I have never tried to return. The moment was so perfect, I just stuck it in my pocket, satisfied.

A 1948 Martin D-18 guitar is in one of my pockets. Daddy bought it for me. Knowing he couldn't afford that top-line guitar made it holy to me. It still is.

I've spent the day pulling things and people out of my heart pockets. Old friends. Old places. Old experiences.

Here's the good news. The heart never runs out of pockets. There's always a place to tuck something or someone special. Never let a day pass when you don't think, "I may find someone or feel something today worth sticking in one of my heart pockets. I am going to be very aware. For once something is placed there, it will be mine forever."

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