I'm not even sure what to call this stuff. This box of bits and pieces came from the junk drawer in my childhood home and why I've saved it is hard to explain. The box is filled with things like doll fingers and feet that were chewed off by any number of our family pets over the years. I'm sure my mom had good intentions of gluing the parts back onto my dolls. But, like most of the smallest details, life moves to fast for repair.
There were seashells, pennies, broken dog collars, lost earrings, fancy toothpicks, and scraps with partial phone numbers. Maybe they were birth dates, I don't know. What I know is that this box is the hardest to let go...harder than afghan blankets or books. I think perhaps there are two possibilities for why this box is so difficult.
First, there's no place for the box to go except the trash. I am reasonably sure that no one at the Goodwill is looking for a box such as this one. So, just knowing that I must commit these saved pieces to the trash is hard. The day that doll finger was laid on the shelf for future repair, it could not have been predicted that the little girl for whom the repair would take place was ultimately the one who would have to throw it out.
Second, these pieces are like the binding to a family. An outsider looks at this box as worthless junk. To me, these are the small parts of our family existence. Things lovingly saved for repair, or memory, or future uses. Things that had no designated place like the china or the wine glasses but that were important none-the-less. Like a secret code, these things are recognizable to no one but the family to whom the box belongs.
Yes, I took a few things out of the box and put into my own junk drawer with all the stuff my son will someday have to deal with... the glue of his own youthful memories. The rest of the box went into the trash.
-un-collecting Mom
Next time you have a box of odds and ends, let me know - Kari Crump uses stuff like that for her frames, mirrors and other artwork. She makes awesome personalized gifts if you ever need one. Conner is only 12 and already has 2 suitcases of this sort of odds and ends - I may need to send him to you at some point in regards to letting go....
ReplyDeleteAfter ranting to my wife about all the junk she collects and how small the house is and how we're getting buried under clutter, I decided to get ruthless with spring cleaning. And then I came across a box such as yours, nondescript, filled with odds and ends, some broken, that when added up made for a sort of conglomeration of a life. Albeit in pieces, of course, and whose tale could be known only to myself. Toss it, keep it, suddenly I was confronted with emotions I could not sort out. That I kept the box has less to do with resolve than with frustration. I simply could not make up my mind.
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