Stuff and Memories

My friend says she is afraid to get rid of her memory box because she may never remember these things again.

I get it. How many times have I come across an old photo that reminds me of a forgotten moment? Who I am is a conglomeration of these memories. The moment in time has already done its work: it formed me.  But I feel as if I am giving away a piece of myself when I relinquish the keepsakes.

My struggle has always been to decide when relics leave the sacred and become the cursed stuff that clutters the closets and fills the shelves with items that have become meaningless in the hodgepodge.

I’ve come up with a plan that may not work for everything, but it’s going to clear my house of many boxes and stacks. I am taking pictures of those “maybe/maybe-not” items that have no fundamental value but that carry some sort of baggage from the past.  (There is good baggage, you know!) Then I will write some little essay about the item(s). After that, it’s the trash can.

I’ll file these writings under “My Journey” as “Relics of the Past”.  (Literally and figuratively. Ha!)


P. S.  Watch out, R.O.Ps!


  1. I am already in the process. As soon as I can, the plan is to sell the three bed room plus home that I now own and move into an assisted facility where I will buy either a bed sitter or a studio apartment if the latter is large enough for my needs. I will need to shed a lot of stuff that we had accumulated over 43 years and I can tell you the project is often heart breaking. So. your idea of photographing them and loading them on to a disc makes sense.


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