Call Me Sentimental…

I would not call myself a pack rat, but I wouldn’t call myself a minimalist either. I was working (again!) on packing the kitchen yesterday. Most everyone has one drawer somewhere in the house that has become the “junk” drawer. I cleaned ours out yesterday. Even cleaning out the junk drawer can be sentimental. I was going through the drawer deciding what to keep and what to throw out. I came across a bag of birthday candles. Some used (the big number candles) and a lot unused still in the boxes. I put everything in a ziploc bag to take with me….I love having candles on birthday cakes….one can’t ever have too many birthday candles. As I packed up the candles I was taken back to the birthday parties….the year of “Scooby Doo”, “The Pirates”, “Sponge Bob” and “Confetti”. Some people don’t like to celebrate birthdays but that is not me! I LOVE birthdays. The day someone was born is special and the perfect time to celebrate. I love putting up the birthday banner and allowing the kids to use the “It’s your special day” plate. They can think their mom is hokey, but I know they secretly love it.
I found a receipt attached to the manual for the refrigerator that my first husband and I bought in April of 1993. It costs us $657 at Lowe’s. So, I did a little math–wow, that refrigerator is 15 years old! I’ve had that refrigerator longer then I’ve had my son. That refrigerator outlived my dog, Buster. Yes, I will eventually need to trade it in for a newer model …one without unknown sticky stuff on it, no stained areas that just won’t come clean, no inside shelf that keeps coming loose, and one that doesn’t have some lost magnets stuck to the back of it. See what I mean? I am even sentimental about a refrigerator.
There is a door in our kitchen that is at the stairwell that goes downstairs to the basement. I already told Scott that we are taking that door with us. I’m taking it right off it’s hinges. No, I’m not kidding. That door has the kids heights measured off since they were very young. That door has memories etched in love. It has permanent black marker marks to announce when my son made it past the 5 foot mark. It has dates of great growth spurts and shows that my daughter might make it to 5’1″. No one else that buys our house is going to care about that door….not like I do. That door is a symbol to me of family and by goodness it’s going with me on our move to Ohio. It has a place in our new home….and I will continue to mark height until the children move out of the house…..well then maybe I will start marking the heights of grandchildren.
Moving is not only a lot of physical work, but it’s also a lot of emotional work. No wonder I stay so exhausted.