I miss him. He’s traveling in Arizona.
]]>There are things stored I haven’t looked at in ten years. With the exception of my son’s childhood toys and books, until I confront some forgotten items, I can’t say how important the memory attachment might be. Somewhere is a puppet stage and a bunch of puppets. I made the stage and bought the puppets, but my son only used it a couple times. Why do I still have it fifteen-years later? Well, not out of sentimentality. I was proud of its design and portability, but there’s something more.
With the puppet stage, as with other long stored items, they hold the only physical record I have to particular period of my life. The same holds for an old roll of blue-paisley wallpaper that I used to remodel my son’s baby room. An itemization and explanation of each and every would be exhausting, but it’s exactly what I’ll confront as I go through boxes. So, you see, the task goes far beyond the just the physical process of moving boxes around. The real work is all in my head.
Have I developed an unhealthy attachment to things I’ve instilled with a sentimental value? Am I holding on to memories that need to be allowed to fade? I’ll have to ask myself these, and other questions as I pull boxes out of storage and sort through them. It’s a task only I can do. It’s just me and my things.
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