Dusty stuffed animals
My mom has been after me for a very long time to "clean my room". It's not that my room is a pig pen...it's just full of stuff. Since I moved out last year, it's been hard to go and do it. I lived in that house almost my entire life, and lived in that particular room for over 10 years. It contains my entire childhood. What is so great is that it's my life in layers. Since my mom has been in Boston this last month, I've been going and slowly digging, cleaning, throwing stuff away and sorting through things i want to keep. As i've gone through the layers i've found birthday cards between the years of 13 and 18, several different high school awards, pictures from trips i didnt remember taking until i found the proof in the film, and a report card from second grade. It's a serious trip down memory lane everytime i walk in there. But, all good things must come to an end, and that was never more apparent than today. As I worked my way through a dresser top and computer table FULL of STUFF, I came to the space around my bed. I've always kept a menagerie of stuffed animals. Some of them gifts, some souvenirs, others I just have for whatever reason and cant remember. I decided that they should be bagged up and put into storage. So, i got a bag, walked over there and just started stuffing bears, pigs, birds and a dolphin (from SeaWorld) into their new home of plastic. After i squeezed as many as possible i closed the bag and chunked it to the other side of the room. When I turned around and saw almost half of my stuffed animals gone, I LOST it. I balled like a baby. This ocean of memories and sentiment washed over me like a tidal wave. Surfs UP, i was a goner. Then, it wasnt the stuffed animals anymore, it was the posters, the ribbons and awards from ALL of my school days, the little mementos from concerts and movie ticket stubs. Knowing that eventually all of it must come down, never to be seen again, and never to mean anything to anyone except me. It made me feel so old and outdated. For a split second, I wanted to be in high school again. Only for a split second though. Life moves so fast. One minute you're hanging up a picture of all your friends, the next you're taking it down and wandering where half the people in the photo are now and what they're doing. I had to call my mom and tell her what had happened. She said, "Dont worry, all of your things will be fine in storage, and when you have a little snotty-nosed kid of your own, we'll give it to them and it will live on." It made me feel better, i guess, but still old. Who would have thought that some dusty stuffed animals, some faded A Honor Roll ribbons from third grade and a Pit Pass for a Metallica concert would cause so much angst in the end?