July 28/365 Shedding Memories Like Skin

Be ruthless. I sorted through five boxes of children’s books. This is the third time I’ve done this. I did manage to pull out one box full to give to Owen.

Then I got to the cartons marked “Kim’s Stuff.”

I looked at school photos, locks of hair, high school plaques, Bobby Sherman pictures, two diaries, packets of old letters tied in ribbons (a very Victorian affectation for me), silk flowers that I wore in my hair in 1982, the bead bracelet they snipped off my baby wrist, a bill from the hospital when I had my tonsils out in 1961, two other bills for my mother while she was pregnant with me, my report cards, two physical fitness charts, and hundreds of birthday/holiday cards (odd, considering I don’t like cards). In the midst of all this, I read the worst poem I ever wrote. It involved me being an ice cube and wishing that someone would put me in a cup of hot water so I could feel warmth. There was more going on than that: angst, woe-is-me, no-one-loves-me, etc. I was probably fourteen years old.

So I was ruthless.

I saved a couple of mysterious letters that might help me locate some lost friends. I saved every bit of paper from three women, my wise witches: Vara, Kate, and Mare. And for now, I am holding onto my little blue notebook from the seminar on James Joyce, the one I failed so utterly. Eventually the book will go into the fire this summer with all the rest. But first I’m going to see if any of my painstakingly neat notes makes sense now that I’m older and tired, and perhaps a little wiser.

5 thoughts on “July 28/365 Shedding Memories Like Skin

  1. It’s tough doing that.

    And this – ” … bills for my mother while she was pregnant with me …” I’m so glad I live here. I never had to pay a cent for either of my problematic and unsuccessful pregnancies and related care.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “Ruthless” is my mantra when I (attempt to) declutter. But I’m not capable of being as ruthless as you apparently were on this occasion. I hope you saved your diaries.

    Note to my fellow bloggers: No cards for Kim.

    Like

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