Trash or Treasure?

No matter how much we may want to keep the detritus of our lives, eventually we have to sort through the muck and choose what to keep and what to trash.  Living in apartments until my late 30's was good for my packrat self; no matter how much I'd want to keep every single thing that came my way, I was forced to learn to purge.  Apartment dwellers know that with every move, one gets less willing to drag things around that are of little use.  Still, my sentimental heart refuses to let go of certain items.  Having gone through the "trash or treasure?" debate many times over the years, I think I'm in a good position to make some suggestions.

Keep the trophies and awards that you won when you were young.  They will remind you of a time when you were satisfied with small achievements, as were your parents.  Oddly enough, ribbons for baking and sewing and crafts and photography can sometimes ease the ache for lost youth and innocence.  The trophies for speaking and medals for singing will surprise you with the memory of when your biggest fear was performing in front of others, instead of the cold terror of losing a job, a home, or ability to function independently.  You can't help but feel that at least part of your life was charmed.

Save cards and letters that you got when you were a small child, especially from family and friends long gone.  That quick, piercing pain you feel when you see their familiar handwriting will pass, and a million warm memories will flood your mind.  Anything they made for you should be treasured and protected, but not hidden away; appreciate these items every chance you get by seeing them in a case or on a shelf.  Put away a copy of your graduation announcement and all your school pictures, for someone may want to know about that part of your life in the future, and there's no guarantee that you'll remember or even be there to remember for them.  Of course, it goes without saying that school yearbooks should be preserved, even if it's just for yourself.  Sometime in the future you will want to know the name of the bully from second grade who terrorized you, or the little bitch from junior high who made you feel so inadequate.  Maybe you'll need to prove your hair color or the office you held in glee club to settle an argument; don't be hasty in ridding yourself of anything that could prove your point.

As the artifacts get newer, so do the wounds.  Read old letters before you throw them out.  I promise you'll be humored and horrified at the immaturity of your friends, implying your own immaturity.  Even worse, some letters will answer questions you must have asked or address issues that were important to you, and the shallowness of your youth will be an unpleasant shock.  Don't under any circumstances keep these letters.  If you haven't been in touch with the person for more than a few years, chances are you never will be anyway.  And is it really likely that any of them will be famous?  You probably won't be burning money if you have a cozy little bonfire to torch your embarrassment.  The one exception to the burn pile is letters from a first love or very significant other.  These are like studying history; by doing so, hopefully you can avoid re-creating the mistakes from the past.  Select one significant thing to burn if the relationship ended badly and set yourself free with that.  Get rid of stuffed animals, but keep the show tickets, floral cards, CDs, and jewelry for a time when you need a boost to remember that yes, you have been worthy of gifts, and you will be again.

Keep your first piggy bank and your first Bible, your favorite toddler outfit and your childhood jewelry box, your tourist gifts and your remaining Scout items.  Trash the truly awful kiddie crafts and kindergarten artwork---unless it goes on the Christmas tree.  Put back your favorite books, sentimental notes from good friends, and the locks of hair your mother saved from your first haircut.  Prize the irregularly printed but sweet notes of your baby sister and the tape of clarinet songs she recorded for you when she was in fifth grade.  Save just enough to remember who you are, leaving room for who you will become.