The time had come. I had successfully avoided
"them" for nearly three weeks. I considered fleeing the state without going near them. However, I couldn't do that to Mom and Dad. Unknowingly, the parents had guilted me into dealing with them by being so kind to me while I was in town.
I knew I would need to be comforted, so I bundled up in Dougie's
sweatshirt, put on my cozy socks and took a deep breath. With a slight creak of the door, and an intimidating first step, I made my way down to the basement. I got to the last step, and looked to my right and there "they" were. The boxes of
Geri-past.
Let's take a moment to clarify...I do not have an irrational fear of cardboard boxes, but I do have a slight fear of what could possibly be
in those boxes! Dad must have sensed my shortness of breath and the layer of sweat on my brow (oh, wait...that's not fear, that's just being pregnant). He came to my rescue, wrangled a few boxes and started hauling them upstairs.
I blew the dust off the first box and dove in. All of a sudden I found myself in junior high all over again. Gap and Doc Marten's. Ice Hockey. Notes, notes and more notes. Report cards. LJHS Yearbooks. Girls' Camp at Shalom. Pictures of people I swear I've never seen before! That box wasn't so bad, 98% straight to the trash. It's best Peach Pit never know of her mom's junior high attitude!
I thought I was grateful to be done with that box and on to...ah, high school. That is until I realized high school consisted of
ten boxes. (
Slight exaggeration, closer to six boxes). I dove in and immediately wanted to jump back out, tape the flaps securely in place and hide the boxes for another ten years (yes, thank you...it's been ten years, give or take). I found myself grimacing as I came facetoface with, ugh, old dance pictures. No, I was not on the drill team, you know..."dance pictures" - homecoming, prom, sadies?? Why is it necessary to not
only have the 8x10 but
thirty wallet-sized pics?
Then it was the binders, a gazillion of those. Clearly very important to keep, what if I need a refresher on sports med, anatomy, ap biology or calculus? I shook my head in shame when I discovered that half the boxes were full...yes,
full of notes. Not notes for class (those were organized in the binders), but friend notes. Hundreds of them! I would like to blame some of you fellow bloggers for the time I spent laughing at those notes, as
"like, ohmygosh, you were totally writing me notes! can you believe it??". I decided it was best not to read all of them, but the few I did pry open were hilarious. I was totally cool in high school. :)
I spent the entire day sifting through my "treasures". I discovered a few things about myself. Most of which I'd rather not share on account of maintaining some dignity. I gained a greater respect for my parents, I appreciate that they let me live through my teenage years, I would have been tempted to lock someone like me in the basement. I realized that I had some pretty awesome friends and that things probably weren't nearly as dramatic as I made them out to be. Ah, the blessing of hindsight.
Most importantly I am that much more grateful for where I am now. It's fun to look at old pics, read old love letters, and laugh at journal entries, but seriously...I would never trade what I have now to go back. (Although I had some pretty rockin' wide-leg jeans and Roxy t-shirts...and I'm still tempted to pull out my Doc's this summer). Besides, those boxes are dusty and now empty!
Just a small sampling (look closely Natalie!)
Time to confront the boxes- at this point I was actually almost done!
The sisters came down after the box carnage was picked up. One last shot with them before I head home. Love the girlies.
Leslie and I lovin' the fruit.
Holy Smokes- I'm going to have to figure out how to use these diapers!
Those are little booties made from frosting, Aunt Anne is amazing!
Cute little baby cupcakes!
