As part of my unpacking-from-the-move/packing-for-Campbell process, I came across a plastic tub full of years' worth of photographs (I always intend to scrapbook, because it really is more enjoyable in that form, but who has patience and time for that?????).
Almost uncanny, all the memories and feelings evoked by these simple pieces of paper:
early puppy years of Danny...trips to the mountains back when my grandparents lived there...visits to Florida...pictures with bad hair and braces...pictures of "husky" Justin and toothpick me...old and new ski trips to Utah...the multitude of family gathering pics...youth camps...Pawley's Island...high school orchestra concerts...the accident...senior portraits...high school graduation...freshman Chickie X-mas party at Northeast (Chickie days. whoa.)...Halloween, college-style...my first onelessframe gig...
and that's barely half.
As part of this process, I've also been shifting through random books, crafts and momentos of my childhood. Oh, nostalgia.
Oh, memory! What a double-edged sword it is, no? I doubt there's a person alive who doesn't have both unwanted memories he wishes would just fade away and never resurface, and profoundly dear memories that will be treasured by the soul forever.
As I get older, I think I'm starting to realize the kind of responsiblity we have in how we respond to our memories...
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