We’re cleaning out and sprucing up and generally putting our hands on every single piece of whatever in this house as we prep to put it on the market.
I opened up the window seat in our room today and pulled everything out.
I touched hand-knitted sweaters and hand-smocked little girl dresses. Hefted an old camera bag filled with lenses that once upon a time were good. Made piles of bedding for Goodwill, and got a trash bag half-filled with useless crap.
In the mix was a ziploc bag filled with boat cards from our mid-90s cruise.
We were members of the Bahamas National Trust, but it expired in 1996.
There were cards from restaurants in Puerto Rico and a boatyard in Trinidad. Hand-drawn cards from friends. Lots of cards with ham radio callsigns on them.
No card with an email address.
2 of the cards were from boats whose people I saw in Annapolis this past fall; they’re both still sailing the same boat but my bet is the boat card has changed.
I know I need to be ruthless in my purging, but this is one of those I can’t quite bring myself to chuck yet. Jeremy and I need to sit down with a glass of wine and laugh and say “remember when” and THEN I can send them to the recycle bin.
The cards don’t hold the memories. They just jog them.
But the important thing is they happened.