Parenting
By Sarah Thompson
August 29, 2015
It’s an intriguing question, but the answer is far from simple. I’ve always been a collector of things. To make matters worse, I tend to hold onto everything—just in case. Just in case of what? A tax return from 1995? A utility bill from 1993? Proof of my eye exam from 1997?
My daughter, Emma, took on the task of shredding. The sound of the shredder whirred like music to my ears! However, something caught my attention—a letter addressed to my partner: “Dear Mark, We are pleased to inform you that your student loan has been settled.” Suddenly, I was transported back to our first apartment, where Mark meticulously wrote that check at the kitchen table shortly after our wedding.
“Here,” I said to Emma as she continued to shred. Vvvrrr. I watched as she tore through paper after paper. I couldn’t help but wonder, what else was in that pile? Just as she was getting into the groove, I couldn’t contain my curiosity any longer.
“Wait!” I exclaimed.
Before me lay a disarray of receipts. One was for copies made at a local store, another for faxes sent from a nearby pharmacy, and yet another for an answering machine. Who even leaves home to make copies these days? Do people still fax?
I picked up a bill from a preschool. Instantly, I was transported back to the days of dropping off my little one, bending low to receive her warm embrace before she headed into class. Now, I’m the one reaching up for hugs.
“Can I get back to this now?” Emma asked, a hint of impatience in her voice.
“Soon.”
Oh! A check stub for $303—winnings from a radio contest when I answered the question: “What never stops growing?” Answer: “Your nose.” How random! And wait, I found a pay stub from the trade magazine where I worked in my late twenties. My boss had set me up with a reporter she thought I’d click with. Little did I know, two years later, I’d end up marrying him. The job was grueling—long hours, low pay, and a smoky office—but it led me to my wonderful husband.
Nearby lay a weathered receipt from the vet for our beloved tiger-striped cat, who passed away 12 years ago. Next to it was a receipt for $20 from the SPCA when we adopted a tiny black-and-white kitten just six weeks later.
So many papers! What should I keep? I found myself pondering: if I were gone, would anyone care about these papers? Would I want someone else to sift through each document to decide what’s important? The thought weighed heavily on me, so I focused on the present. Right now, I told myself, if these papers remain, so do my memories. Each glance at these documents freezes time, much like a photograph transports me back to a specific moment. I’d never part with a photo, yet there are so many papers, and I need to declutter.
“Mom’s at it again!” Emma called out to Mark, eyeing the mountain of documents while waiting to earn her $5.
“Alright,” I replied. “You can have these.” Vvvrrr.
Just as she fed the next page into the shredder, I instinctively snatched the pile, clutching it close to my chest to prevent any from slipping away, and made a hasty exit. Perhaps the next time I’m in a decluttering mood, these papers will find their way to the shredder. But for now, I’ll keep them and the memories they hold a little longer.
Resources for Parents
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Summary
This article reflects on the author’s struggle with clutter and the emotional attachments tied to old documents. As her daughter helps shred papers, memories resurface, prompting a deeper reflection on what to keep and the significance of those memories. Ultimately, the author decides to hold onto the papers a little longer, valuing the memories they encapsulate.
Keyphrase: decluttering memories
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