This just in: My boys are growing up too quickly. I have a vague awareness of this most times. At other times, like this weekend, it hits me full force.
There's pressure to make a big dent in reorganizing the basement quickly due to a furniture situation (a different story for a different day). So there really isn't a lot of time to open every box, unfold every piece of clothing, read every note written with those hands I love so much, or relive each memory. Consequently, there will definitely be more Basement Cleanout Weekends in our future. Sigh. I mean, really, if it has stayed safely boxed up since we moved here 9 years ago, it's probably not going anywhere soon, right? Apparently that is part of the problem.
I am not genetically wired with the ability to just throw away things we aren't using. Cute clothing goes to friends with younger boys. Still usable items go to the next charity that drives their truck down our street. What can't be reused by someone else is recycled. And if it holds a special memory, I keep it. Unfortunately (and it's unfortunate in so many ways), I have a great memory. Hence, the basement is full of books, clothes, and toys labeled KEEP IT.
There are books I can give away, and then there are the books that are so clearly imprinted in my mind as I stood in the doorway and watched Dale read to a little boy curled up in his lap. There are clothes I can hand down, and then there are the precious denim overalls all 3 boys wore or the matching vests Grandma made them one Christmas. There are toys I can give away, and then there are the toys I've stepped on and nearly killed myself in the process. Wait, those toys I can give away. The toys I can't give away are the hundreds (and I do mean hundreds) of Hot Wheels, Lincoln Logs, and stuffed animals for which I dropped whatever I was doing so that I could see the latest creation or, and this was my favorite, be invited to join in on the fun. These days, books are read when they are assigned. Clothes are definitely no longer homemade. There are still toys; they are just bigger and cost more to insure.
So this basement, this history of our family collected in Rubbermaid totes and cardboard boxes is an emotional rollercoaster for me. The questions spoken out loud have been the "Do you remember this?" kinds of questions. The questions in my heart are the kind that are more difficult to answer. Have I done enough to ensure these boys will be good men? Have I made good decisions? Will I always feel this joy when looking back on their lives? And as I look at the boxes, the bags, the tubs, and the totes, I know that we've had a good ride, so far. We've packed a lifetime of memories and experiences into these boys. And someday, maybe when they are unpacking their own boxes of memories, they will understand the enormity of this thing called parenting, and they will feel this feeling I have right now: This is the most important thing I will ever do.
I am thankful God gave me these guys. Now if He would just tell me what to do with their stuff.
6 comments:
Okay, stop that, you are making me cry. Now that my home is empty again, it is just hard to move to a different chapter in life, but there is a bright side, I do remember it, I am sure it will come in a week or two.
Judy, you are my hero.
eBay! OK let me explain....Take your camera, unpack boxes, take photos, load photos on computer, sort into folders on computer, sell your stuff on eBay, go to Hawaii (or Oklahoma), view files on computer often, enjoy your memories and use them for your blog, finish your basement and enjoy the open spaces!-DC
Is it ok if a male wades in? When our oldest, Shea, got married 27 months ago, my wife, Elaine, suggested that we take advantage of the moment as an opportunity for Shea to take as much of her "stuff" with her as possible. Shea's husband, Rhea, was somewhat chagrined when he realized just how much stuff Shea had collected over 20 years...and that we kept putting stuff in their car everytime they came to visit and kept showing up at their home with more stuff in our car. Of course, I just remembered that we have an attic (out of sight, out of mind) filled with those boxes of memories that will have to wait...the easter dresses made by Elaine, the special toys (annie #1, annie #2, fish, etc.) OK, I am going to stop before I get, uh, emotional. I think it was Wayne Watson who had a song about Watercolor Ponies...
Males can wade in anytime, Wendell. (DC is a male you happen to know.)
And thanks for sharing. Now I'm remembering Shea's Annies and the dresses Elaine made and thinking about how quickly your kids have grown, too. Thanks a lot, Wendell. :)
Hi, Megan. I have 3 boys too (there's girl in there somewhere, but we're talking about boys) I relate so deeply to what you have written. My boys are younger, but I can't throw away random pieces of paper with pictures of pencil-drawn warriors and shields all over. My dream is that they BECOME warriors for the Kingdom. I can't throw away the book, "Runaway Bunny" because I vowed that's the kind of mother I would be. I can't throw away the little Lego figures that went in pockets to Sunday School so many Sundays. I just can't. May God take our amateur efforts and grow a powerful harvest in our little men. Love ya, Lori
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