Boxed memories…

Another new year and out with the old, in with the new, as is often said. Yes, it’s been one of those weeks in my life. Unfortunately, this phrase doesn’t apply to our attic where a stockpile of all things that once were has taken on a life of its own. I’ve written about this before, citing boxes of photographs, baby clothes, household items and more, each item a reminder of yesterdays and loved ones. Someone reminded me that the contents of these boxes really don’t hold memories and I was advised that all such thoughts are tucked away safely in our minds.

I disagree. Think about it.

In fact, after again watching a movie called “November Christmas”, one particular scene made my heart smile when a still grieving mother opened a box with toys, once belonging to her son who tragically passed away years earlier. She reached into each box and shared them with a visiting little boy who smiled with delight as he played with each item. That once sad collection of memories sprang back to life with a chance to bring another child joy.

Sorting through years of papers from my children, and grandchildren, I’m quickly greeted with sparks of precious memories inside each box. Bittersweet reminders of how quickly time has flown by and, for a brief moment or two, I’m taken back to places and times I’d almost forgotten. Photographs of tiny faces peering out from baby blankets that I once held in my arms; now they’ve all grown and insist that they drive when we go somewhere. Collections of retro music or scents from boxes of Christmas decorations, each twinkle of nostalgia tucked inside lures us back to cherished and much simpler times.

At times, when rummaging through boxes, a toy will be stuffed rather uncomfortably inside and I recall how my children campaigned for that item, only to play with it for a week, Still, the thoughts that flow back are happy, even if life was difficult at that time, for whatever reasons, but the easier times helped to bring a balance overall.

We continue to grow older, time continues to move even faster. The best part about this attic conglomeration of “stuff” is the ability to pass it on and share, so that others can look back and enjoy a trip back in time, reflecting on the beautiful pieces of life as we once knew it. At least I hope that’s the case, where I’m concerned. Forget any monetary valuation on things deemed collectible, it’s impossible to put a price tag on most, especially all of those boxed memories.

From the Writer’s Workshop: Share something that you worked on this week.


Going, going…but wait…

Memories…and letting things go. Both kind of go hand-in-hand.

Think about it.

We have those boxes up in the attic, full of items we once used, might use again, or just refuse to part with because, you know, someone might want them? And there’s the underlying valuation of something vintage which just might come into the “highly collectible” arena so, better hold onto it!

I do have my days of standing back and taking a really hard look at “stuff”, deciding that its time has come to move out of my life and memories. Maybe pass things along to a family member who might enjoy having them or, more likely, curse me out for bestowing my misguided generosity on them.

Mostly, I’ve been putting off dealing with focusing on and categorizing items into things worth keeping or cutting emotional cords with objects whose time, and usefulness, has long passed.

For starters…

Christmas items. For me, the most difficult to let go because…okay, I’m passing on this one. For now.

Baby clothes. Each outfit, tiny pair of baby shoes, receiving blankets, Onesies…all bring back memories of when they were worn and what my children were like at that time. And wishing I could live that experience again. We all wish for “do overs”. Don’t deny it!

Kitchen goods. Oh please…copper molds, utensils, cake pans, Pyrex galore, glassware. Time to pack it up and send it out!

Books, school reports, toys. Difficult issue because most should be passed along but first, I’ll spend hours going over the memories behind each one.

Let’s face it, there is no easy way, no satisfactory solution with letting most things make an exit from our lives. The older we get, the more we grasp the memories represented by our belongings, our collections. And, I’ve written several times before on how I hope my family will hold onto much of what I leave behind.

Or curse my existence into eternity.

From Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop…Write a blog post about something that makes you feel nostalgic. Tell us about something you have been putting off.