An Evening In My Parents Attic

My name is Mel and I am a sentimental packrat.

I have the hardest time letting go of things because I want to hold on to the memories. (Perhaps it also has to do with the fact I’m just cheap and want to hoard stuff so I will have it “just in case”)

Avoiding studying for my psych CLEP I crawled into my parents attic to look through some boxes I’d put in there about 3 years before I left home. Moving every 6 months or so for the last 3 years has been annoying at times (and often with a tight international weight limit), but it does force me to go through my possessions regularly. However the parents attic always seems like a little safe place for me to stash some stuff I just don’t want to have to go through.

So, it’s been YEARS, yea, closer to a decade since I was in Russia. So why do I still have a Russian dictionary, Russian Berlitzer, and various “Russian in 5-minutes a day” workbooks? Do I plan to return? No! Have I practiced since I came back? No!

Then you have the Teen Missions box. In this sacred arc I have kept old “Get Dirty for God” shirts, the dark denim/hot pink uniforms, rain ponchos (yes, I’m so ashamed), a worn Bible colored for Bible marking, hats, etc. From my more “conservative” days I have sturdy-washed-in-the-bucket- floral jumpers (yuck), calf-length swimsuit covers (double yuck), and splitskirts (the HEIGHT of my fashion). Realizing I’m probably not going back on TMI soon and even if I were would not wear that stuff I let it go. (Well I kept one fuchsia shirt).

The attic beams can now rest with at least 3 boxes cleared out. Some books will go online sales, others (like my old chemistry notebooks) will great the trash men in the morning. Tomorrow I will tackle the international souvenir chest and a box of clothes. In just about 3-4 months now I’ll move yet again.