My Favorite Object: My Music box

I did this little post for my friend Emily for her charming blog, The Object Enthusiast, and I loved it so much that I decided to share it on the blog as well. :) I chose my favorite object for Emily's favorite object series, my music box that my grandmother gave me when I was little. I hope that you all love this post as much as I do!

I'm not sure how old I was when my grandmother gave me my music box, but for as long as I can remember I have always had it. It isn't an expensive, elaborate, or especially beautiful music box; still it is one of the most treasured items I own.

My music box is a simple and light wood affair from Japan whose only decoration is a book page of a young girl feeding chicks from her basket. I can't count the number of times that I used to make up stories about the girl in the red handkerchief and her chicks. Sometimes she was going to the market to see the chicks and lost her nerve, or maybe she had found them and was taking them home, or better yet, she was little red riding hood and the chicks had been in her basket on the way to grandmother's house.

When I open the music box I am instantly a little girl, safe and warm in my grandmother's arms. I can hear her voice in the soft music that it plays and see her smile every time I open it. I have never been without my music box and it has become a favorite hiding place of my items. I used to store my social security card in it until my husband made me stop :)However, when I moved to South Korea the music box was broken. Somehow a couple of screws came loose and now it is silent. I have been too nervous to take it into a repair shop because I don't want them to tell me that it can't be fixed. I remember taking it out of the box and cranking it to hear nothing, my heart broke and I cried. 

My music box is one of the few things I have that remind me of my grandmother. She died when I was 19, nearly 9 years ago, and recently I have begun to forget what her voice sounded like, or what she smelled like. The music box always reminded me and without it's music I was scared I might forget her presence. My husband being the kind man that he is made me realize that the music box didn't have to work for me to remember her, and that she was with me no matter what, and that the music box is just a good reminder not the measure of my memory of her.

Even though the music box is now silent I can still see my grandmother clear as day when I look at it. I love this little piece and I think a trip to the repair shop in the near future is in order.