It was a two day event for Nick and me. We attacked and cleaned the basement!!!!!
There was laughter. There were tears.
There were some things we looked at and said, "Why did he keep this?" There were other things we just said, "What is it?"
Nine garbage bags later. 10 bags full of things to the thrift store. Then home for 6 more bags of garbage and 4 more bags for the thrift store. The work was finished!
There was laughter. There were tears.
There were some things we looked at and said, "Why did he keep this?" There were other things we just said, "What is it?"
Nine garbage bags later. 10 bags full of things to the thrift store. Then home for 6 more bags of garbage and 4 more bags for the thrift store. The work was finished!
The tears came when we found things from their childhoods. Photos flooded our brains with memories. Memories of places. Visions of people we loved for too short a time.
Laughter came when we remembered why we kept the drawings, the photos, the journals, the paper clippings, and some of the things we found.
We wondered why somethings were still there after 40 years. Why were they moved 20 years ago? What meaning did they have then that they didn't have now? Who were some of these people in the pictures? Who was this baby in the picture? Why did we have it?
Look at this! It's my first communion veil! What is this? This is my bull fighting cape from when I took Spanish dancing as a teenager. Look at these newspaper clippings.
"Mom," Nick said, "is that you? Why didn't you tell
me you used to act in plays? When did you do that? How old were you?"
"Where'd did all these cups come from?"
I don't know, but put them in the
thrift shop bags. (White bags were for the thrift store. Black bags
were the garbage.)
Now, what's left of the memories are organized in plastic bins. Memories stored until someone else comes along and says, "What is this?" "Where did it come from?" "Why did she keep it?"
"Who was that?" "Was she really an actress?"
Memories from the basement, but a basement that's cleaned!
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