Musings on a past life

Part of the motivation for this trip back to Mom and Dad's was the large pile of papers and binders and notebooks I have stacked in the alcove of what is now Lindsey's room (the large bedroom my parents apparently keep for wayward daughters left without a solid plan after college - sorry Linds, but we both know it's true (for those not in the know, it was my room before it was Lindsey's). So tonight, with Lindsey and Dad at the Sox game and Mom resting, I settled in to cull through the remnants of my former life.

We all have these boxes somewhere and if you don't, I'd be willing to bet that you once did. I have paper boxes, under the bed boxes and even an old steamer trunk packed with things I once never dreamed of parting with: lecture notes from college; cards/letters/notes given to me by friends; receipts/ticket stubs/wristbands from "that" night; old planners and id cards; my first lesson plans/semester plans/press releases; drawings given to me by students/nanny charges/interns; note taking/test taking/organizing/fundraising guides; quotes/photos/mementos I tacked to one bulletin board or another. Things that meant so much to me at the time - things that prove that I was the person I say I was.

Professional organizers (and the Miss Type A in my mind) would tell me that I don't need these things to remind me of those times and would point out that it is not like I ever sit down to go through these boxes and I know both things to be true. After all, I am nearly certain that the paper box I just went through hadn't been opened since 2003 and I painlessly threw out a number of things, but some things were much harder to part with (USSA organizing manual for welfare? Tossed. Letter from Fred Mohs comparing affirmative action to India's caste system? Tossed (with some hesitation - it was pretty funny). Contract for Austin's soul? Kept. Last Exec Committee update from UC? Kept. Letters from students from Audubon (student teaching)? Kept.) even though I know I should throw them out. I look at the trunk, the milk crate and the under-the-bed box that awaits me and I think "get it together girl - you have to PURGE," but I don't want to. Not now. Let me explain....

I keep the stuff from my first attempts at teaching (practicum, student teaching, my Northwestern gig) because it amuses me to see how ambitious and naive and almost completely unskilled I was. There are also good examples of student work and materials I wouldn't want to recreate (if, for instance, I ever found myself having to teach ancient world history or something). That stuff is pretty easy to go through. The college stuff is harder b/c the cards and the photos remind me of silly, everyday things that I do tend to forget about - an outing with my roommates or some snowball fight, but even that isn't terribly tough to toss because I have so many photos from that time (my girls are nothing if not present with the cameras). It's the student government/organizing things that I am finding hardest to part with. Those are artifacts from a whole different life and one that I continue to distance myself from as years pass. I tell people about my time at ASM or UC and they cannot even imagine it and even I am starting to wonder if I'm remembering it all correctly and it comforts me to know that somewhere are the objects that can back up my stories. Not that I would ever drag out the boxes and show someone these things, but the idea that I could is comforting. So, for now at least, the pile will probably remain pretty large.

It is hard to close the door on your past - I thought that part of my life was long since left behind, but I'm discovering that maybe I'm not quite ready to say good bye entirely yet. Who knows, tomorrow is another day.