Sentimental Objects

A year or so ago I was home for a friend's wedding. I have one trunk stored at Jack's house, in the basement (well, it was in the basement, till my mom decided it was in the way - because she needs the entire basement - and had him move it to under a pile of her junk in the garage). It contains ALL of my sentimental objects from childhood to the present. Every time I've been home since leaving to live back east I look through it and reminisce. But if I don't remember why a particular note that contains an inside joke between friends was funny anymore, I throw it out. If I want to add a stack of love notes from a current boyfriend, I cull through my stack of love notes from the last boyfriend and only keep one or two that are particularly special. Every time I throw something away from this trunk my mom howls about what an unfeeling person I am. It's gotten to the point that I carefully destroy things before I throw them away so she won't fish through the trash to rescue old letters to me to keep for herself. Or, I pack things and fly them back with me so that I can dispose of them in my own trash, where I know they will not grow legs and climb out.

So anyways, I was out for a friend's wedding and I was looking through my trunk, and I noticed a bag of clothes nearby. They looked familiar, so I opened the bag up. It was a bag of my old clothes from high school. Nothing particularly special, like a prom dress or anything, just some old sweaters, jeans, etc. No chance they will fit me again, and no chance they ever would have fit my mom. I was surprised they were still around. They must have been things I didn't take to college with me, so I obviously wasn't attached to them. "Can I donate this somewhere Mom? They're my old clothes...I don't think you need to keep my old things on top of your own." I pointed out. "Well, you might have worn them, but since they're your clothes from high school, I probably bought them, so I think that they're mine to decide what to do with, and I want to save them." By high school I actually had a job and bought much of my own clothing at thrift stores, but that's really beside the point; yes, she may have bought some of those clothes...not a reason to hold on to them. I queried, "Do you think I might fit them again at some point? Are you saving them to one day give to my hypothetical future child? Do you have project ideas to use them? Do you think a t-shirt from the late 90s might one day be worth money?" The usual response: "I don't have to justify why I save what I do."

Before moving back I went through all mine and my boyfriend's things and made a hefty donation. I do this every time we move, and sometimes just for fun. No point moving things you haven't used in a while and probably won't start using again. This weekend I'm going to the Maker Faire (a convention with crafts people and DIY technology, etc) with an old friend of mine. We used to go when we were in college, and this is the first time I've been in town for it in six years. Our favorite place to visit there was a giant clothing swap. There are all these silk screen stations and sewing machines to alter clothes you pick up right there. I think the first time we went we spent most of the day there. But, it's a swap, so to get in, you have to bring something to donate to the pile. Since I just moved, I don't have any spare clothes lying around. 

Light bulb! You know where I'm going with this? "Hey mom...you know that bag of my old high school clothes that you wouldn't donate last year that have stayed sitting out on the patio untouched for the last year? Could I possibly take that to Maker Faire so I could get into the swap meet?" No. "What about just some of it?" No. "Why not?"

"Because you'll never be in high school again. Stop pestering me."

So I tried a gentler tactic. "I won't ever be in high school again, but do those clothes" (which I guarantee she hasn't looked at since she bagged them up and put them downstairs) "help you remember the person I was then?" I suggested, "What if you just keep my high school uniform? Or we could go through the bag together and see if a particular piece or two hold particular memories, and donate the rest." No. 

She went so far as to pull out a few of her own pieces of clothing (that still fit her...one blouse that still has tags) to give me for the swap to shut me up about my old high school clothes. I'm glad for anything to leave the house, but is that not ridiculous?

If I told this story to a stranger they might almost think it her answer was sweet. But for a hoarder, EV.ER.Y.THING. is a sentimental object. How does anything hold meaning if everything holds meaning?