I 'm a hoarder. Of memories.

I 'm a hoarder. Of memories.

Lately I have been feeling a little weepier than usual as some major milestones are about to come upon me. Anyone that knows me can confirm that it doesn't take much to make me cry. Commercials, cute babies, the end of "White Christmas" when Bing and Danny sing to The General. Stuff like that. So imagine my tear ducts now as I prepare to watch my 23 year old daughter move into an apartment in the city and put the house I have lived in for 21 years on the market.

Thinking about my daughter of course is much worse. Combining that with thoughts of all the things that have happened in this house make it nearly impossible to do anything without kleenex in hand.

In 1990, eight months pregnant with my second child, we moved into our home. My older girl was a little past 2 years old with a horrible cold that day. I recall so specifically her little nose, all runny and red and her confusion over what was going on. I remember getting her bed into her room as soon as possible so I could get her to nap. BAM. When I woke her up this morning she had slept through her alarm and rushed to go off to work to her new job downtown. She graduated college in May 2010 and I can't figure out how we went from that nap in 1990 to this morning.

My mother catered lunch on the day that we moved here. She had baskets and baskets of her signature delicious food prepared for us and all our friends that helped. She was so excited for us to be in our first single family home. Today as I walked through the house looking at all the pictures I have to put away for our home "staging", the pictures of my mom stung at my heart. It's been 2 1/2 years since she passed away. But my house holds memories of her that I will never let go of. Where did THAT time go??

Sometimes I just can't seem to fathom how our lives fly by us faster than a speeding bullet. Even Superman can't stop the hands of time.

But the one thing that time can't take away is our memories. And yes, I hoard them. I remember dates of things that happened. I remember the whens and the wheres. I can close my eyes and feel them as if they were happening now. The time I made the pom pon squad in high school, my first date. The first time I met my husband, the births of my girls. And this house. This house filled with more memories than any other. The child rearing, our first dog that lived to 15, the meals, the laughter, the toys, the birthday parties, the snuggling during scary movies, the dance dresses, the dates, their leaving for college the first time and on and on and on.

I hold onto all of them for dear life. Even when I don't live in this house, I will take those memories with me. When my daughter moves, I will always have the memories of her growing up. When my younger girl graduates from college next spring, I will add that to the memory bank.

So, in closing I don't mind being a hoarder. You can crowd this brain with as many memories as humanly possible and I will not have anyone intervene. And when I am older and much grayer, I hope to remember writing this blog.

 

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