Tag: memories

Wall Flowers Are Actually Quite Beautiful

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I don’t have a whole heckuva lot to share this week because currently I am

  1. Completing a crossword every day
  2. waiting for my baby niece to arrive
  3. Packing, packing, packing.

If you saw my post from last year “Packing up the Pieces” you’re aware of how my sentimental heart has a hard time WITH A MOVE ACROSS TOWN. So imagine the inner turmoil when I’m leaving the entire STATE! To be fair, when I tell people I’m moving to Eugene everyone has said “Oh I love that place!” so if I have to leave Bellingham Continue reading →

Packing up the Pieces

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*Cue packing/moving as an extended metaphor for the transition between different life stages*

I can’t help but look back when I start packing up my stuff. I can’t help but be paralyzed by little scraps of paper I find with notes written by friends I’ve tucked into random books. I agonize over whether to keep a pedometer my Mom gave me. Isn’t it funny, how one of the last things she gave before she was diagnosed, was a pedometer that counted your steps? Her and I were going to compare step counts and encourage each other to be healthier. and here I am, still taking steps. One foot in front of the other into the future! And yes, I know a silly piece of plastic doesn’t represent her memory, but somehow I still carry her desire for me to be strong and healthy with me. I got all of that out of a plastic pedometer.

So yeah, being an introverted writer makes packing efficiently IMPOSSIBLE. A chipped mug is my 20th birthday present from my sister. A scrap of paper can be repurposed for an art project. A half-used tube of toothpaste represents the fragility of living in a dental conscious world (ok that one I made up). Jesse has been secretly (slash I kinda have him permission to) throwing things away while I was recovering from my wisdom tooth removal last week because he knows I get emotionally attached to household objects. (Remember the hoarding candy thing I talked about in my last post?) Sometimes it feels like if you hold on to these objects for just a little longer you can keep your memories safe. Or you will never find yourself in need. Unlike the popular book/philosophy of the day, ALL of these things give me joy. But I guess you have to limit yourself to a cardboard memory box of little trinkets before they become a whole drawer or room of junk.

You have to decide which pieces of yourself are worth carrying on into the next stage, and which ones are bringing you down. Perhaps part of you got dropped from the moving truck and can’t be put back together. That’s alright. Put a scrap of it in your mental memory box and move on.

Also, if none of that works just marry somebody/hang out with someone who loves and embraces change and try to catch the excitement bug from them. Just hide your important “valuables” from them so they don’t end up in the goodwill pile 😀