You may not care about that, but since I will not be heading home until after they move, it meant a Skype date with my sister as she held up every single possession of mine that is in my parents' home to ask whether I would like to keep it, trash it, or sell it at a garage sale.
Some items were no-brainers - books that had no sentimental value, a bottomless pit of office supplies, and a couple of laundry baskets that wouldn't be worth shipping down to Boston.
What was hard to throw away were all the little knick knacks I'd collected over the years. I mean, who really needs a Veggie Tales eraser? (Bob the Cucumber and Larry the Tomato, anyone?) What about the pack of mints I bought at Hoover Dam? (Best Dam Mints) Or the San Francisco key chain with my name on it?
As I went through all of these items, it struck me how much my identity used to be tied up in the things I chose to like. There was a lot of penguin, Veggie Tales, and travel paraphernalia. I had huge posters of my favourite band (Switchfoot ;-) ) and collages of special seasons of my life.
Though I didn't have to do the physical throwing away (thank you Becky!), it was still hard to let these things go. In fact, I took screen shots so I could remember. But the reality is that I no longer have any use for my "I Hate Cuddling" button or my "Boys Are Smelly" grape-flavoured candies. Not only do they not represent who I am any longer (though don't get any ideas about invading my personal space), I have also moved on to someone who keeps the mementos to a minimum. Perhaps that is the function of being about to head to live in my third city in as many years.
I'd also like to think that as I mature, that my identity is found less in my "Chicks Rule" key chain and more in the way that I carry myself and interact with others. Of course, despite all these thoughts, the truth is that I'm glad is was my sister and my I who had to throw away all of that stuff!
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