So my sister and I are with my parents right now, helping them move into their new house. In the process, we are going through all the boxes and closets that have been closed and packed up for years. I’m constantly coming across things I had forgotten about or thought I might never see again. Here are a few things I’ve found:
*The small bear named Harris that was given to me the day I was born over 27 years ago.
*The Pooh Bear I got at age 3 who is now so old it’s hard to tell that he’s yellow.
*The little white and blue pajamas that I put on my favorite doll, Josh.
*The old cleats that I wore for countless, sweaty hours on the soccer field I loved so much.
*The purple, off-the-shoulder dress I wore to my 11th grade Junior-Senior Banquet that made me feel like a princess.
*Five (THICK) journals filled with writing of my life from age 18-20, exclaiming over each joy and despairing with each misery.
*A ton of clothes from my two super-skinny years at college (let’s avoid present comparisons to those years, shall we?).
I don’t think we can count our memories by the “stuff” we have, but it’s hard to look at old stuff without having all those memories come flooding back to you. Some of those memories are joyful, some are painful, and some forever define you. Either way, those memories make us who we are.
Let’s chat: if you unpacked your closet of memories, what things might you find?