mining for memories

these are the times that make me wish I were a better writer, or at least a mad scientist who could make a time machine and transport myself into the future where I finally am. I want to express the whirlwind and the heat and the exhaustion caused by frustration and the frustration caused by exhaustion. I am still tired. days later. I am still trying to return from the deep.

it is times like these that no one, except for the monkey on your back, can attest to the craziness and the epic quality of such feats. in written form it all seems simple, and I sound guilty of over-dramatizing something rather mundane. but this, my fair reader, is where you must trust me. this shit was karazy.

it all seemed easy enough as we talked about it over lunch. jG and I would fly to Idaho to help my parents get rid of all the junk filling up my childhood home. a beautiful home built to house my two parents and their 4 children. enough toilets for each behind. enough square footage for a circus. but the clock ticked and eventually the rooms vacated. until this september when all that was left in the big space were my parents and a mountain of unclaimed stuff. enter in the super heroes wearing sweat pants and unwashed faces. for five uninterrupted days, we sifted - mining the memories from the mountains of excess. so much stuff.

what do you get when you have money to spend and space to fill? - shit to get rid of.

so that is what we did, for five full days of early mornings and late nights. we got rid of a lot of stuff. so much stuff. the house grew bigger and my parents grew taller. and it felt good. getting rid of things that were no more and tastes that had changed and opinions that had matured. cleansing the house of who they had been, who we had been, and leaving open cupboards to be filled with new ideas. we are not supposed to stay the same, why would we keep all the same stuff? why would we spend our days tripping over all the old junk that's filling up our lives when we could make room for the new? yes, it is nothing short of epic to let go and move on, but that old t-shirt you swear you can't live without will prove you wrong. it will go and you will stay and you will be okay. and you will find a new and better t-shirt, one that you will eventually, hopefully let go of. your grandmother's dishes don't love you back. the children's books you used to read to your now grown children are dusty and there are children being born that need them more than your shelves. let go. give it all away and watch what you get in return.