OK, we've lived in the house for 19 years. Every year we put lights up at Christmas time and each Epiphany we take them down. So why have I never taken a picture of the house with lights? More importantly, why did I wait until New Years Eve to do it? It's not the best shot, but when I am sitting in assisted living someday, drool running down my chin, I can look at the picture and ask myself: Where the hell is that?
Moved boxes yesterday....four wonderful workers came to do the bulk of the lifting. Among the items moved were: a parking meter; Jackie's grandmother's China; my wine making supplies; 10 plastic tubs marked simply 'pictures'; two boxes of 78 records; and a box marked 'Emily's childhood.'
Boy did that bring back memories! Emily's childhood. Some of it carefully preserved (ok, tossed in a box) for maybe 28 years, on its third move; dusty...perhaps. Musty smelling....definitely. But that is what memories are.
As lovingly carried it in to Emily's I showed it to her. Opening it, I pulled out the Care Bear ballon, the tower made of poplicle sticks and filled with erasures. She looked at it wide eyed and said, "Wow, I can't believe you saved all that crap."
And that sums up the basement move....I can't believe I've saved all that crap either. But it's there.....in Emily's basement.
For now.. :)
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