The Weight of Memory

The contrast was striking. Surrounded by packing paper and cardboard boxes, I sat on the floor of our bedroom closet filling boxes upon boxes with photo albums, baby books, yearbooks, scrapbooks, journals, and other memorabilia type items -- all from my side of the closet. I then turned to my husband's side of the closet and packed exactly one quarter of a moving box with one photo album, one shoebox of photos, and a small box of memorabilia. I felt a slight pang of guilt when I saw the difference between "my side" and "his side." My husband often encourages our family to get rid of the unneeded stuff hanging around our house and here I was with a huge pile of things that had no clear use, other than to help me remember.


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