I opened two boxes today; One was the box of things I packed away after Carl died with the thought that it was stuff that spoke most to who he was, the other was my box of random memory items that I have kept for years and years. The difference between the two was striking to me.....and yet there were some similarities.
Carl was not much of a sentimental sort of guy. When he died, going through his effects was nothing like a chick lit book or movie. No sappy beyond the grave letters, not even an old card that I had sent him. My husband wasn't for retaining or producing missives of love. Really the only things that spoke to his sentimentality was a small pile of get well soon cards sent to him in high school when he had Chicken pox, his grandfathers funeral announcement and a cut out wedding announcement for someone who had been a great friend in elementary school but hadn't been in touch for years. So I put those in the box, along with the stuff that spoke to his interests.......Star Trek memorabilia collected avidly, the title and dog-earred repair manual for his beloved Trans Am and the random chotchkies he loved enough to take up precious desk space.
My box is full of things of a different sort. Mostly letters, deflated balloons, cheap jewelry and bad teenage poetry. Sadly, the pressed blue daisies (my first flowers from a boy) have disintegrated. Somehow I have all the letters my high school boyfriends and I wrote back and forth filled with wonderful insights about skipping classes, and making out. When I was younger I always imagined it would be great fun to show my grandkids the letters that their grandfather and I exchanged when parted. (This may have had something to do with the fact that I was forever dating military men or guys who at least lived a bit away, making letters a necessary medium.) Funny thing is that I never married any of them, yet the letters are still there in the box. And the man I married never wrote me a single letter. Unless you count random post it notes asking me to stop at the store or call one of his clients about a past due bill. The cheap jewelry I will probably keep. It was exciting to get an ID bracelet from my first love....or a REAL necklace from the boy I was dating. While I won't wear them anymore they are full of the sentimental memories for me. Maybe I will eventually get around to throwing away some of my letters because they aren't really going to mean anything to anyone else, and lord knows they are embarrassing to read....but maybe I will wait and read them to myself when A gets to be a teen. Just to remind myself about what teenage love looks and feels like.
But what was the same for both boxes was the lack of things from our childhood before the teen years. I can't speak for Carl, but what I remember most about those years is just fun. The need to keep things as a way of narrating my existence didn't really begin until I realized I wasn't always going to be around to speak for myself.
I don't know if A will care about Carl's bobble head Reagan or my bad teenage poetry. I can't predict what will help her find a sense of connection to the people who brought her into the world or will foster a moment of understand between the two of us as she gets older....... but I know that just thinking about whether or not stuff is "box worthy" helps me focus on what is important in life.
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