My parents moved into a new house in June, leaving behind the home I spent a decade of my life in. This Thanksgiving weekend has been the first time I've actually stayed and slept in their new home.
And because of that, my dad has charged me with sorting through all of the crap I accumulated when from ages 0 to (almost) 18, which my family had to pack up since I was in Reno during the summer.
There's a lot of it. I've only gone through two boxes, and I know there are at least a dozen more in the garage.
There are several Barbie's from my doll collecting days and Pokemon memorablia left over from that particular obsession. Unfinished scrapbooks and tons of cardstock lie in piles. Stories I conceived years ago remain ideas in notebooks I haven't touched in years.
College letters of acceptance were filed away with papers that had grades and SAT scores. A confirmation cross is now sitting on my desk, with no place to go.
At least three boxes for old cell phones have been discovered. Two press passes from past journalism conventions are coming back with me to Reno.
It just shows me how much I have changed throughout the years.
And that I'm a horrible pack rat.
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1 comment:
I used to think that it was only photographers that were pack rats - the whole capturing the past and hanging onto it thing...but that makes me feel better that you are too.
Hope you're doing well. Say hi to everyone.
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