I spent much of the day cleaning out and organizing closets. Going through bins. Throwing out dried up Play-Doh and tempera paint. Sweeping up mouse poop. Putting all of the unused batteries into one box. And uncovering TREASURES. TREASURES, people. Treasures. I found 12-year-old e-mails between me and Sarah. I found letters Sarah wrote to me while I was at camp—in 1984. Also, handwritten letters she sent to me at college, when Sarah was not yet a teenager, with the return address of “Barftown, USA.”
Oh, how I wish I had a scanner. There is a drawing of a sad gerbil that is priceless. (I was a proud gerbil owner. Brownie and Scout; and then, Ted and Alex. And, apparently, I was very worried about them when I went away to camp in the summers. I found no less than FIVE letters—from five DIFFERENT family members—assuring me of the well-being of my gerbils, all written during the same summer.)
When I was in elementary school, a short, smart, chubby boy named Andrew Shedlock had a crush on me. Today, in my bins of saved papers, I found a construction-paper card he made me on the occasion of my move from the school where we were in the same third-grade class. “I’ll die without you,” it said. THIRD GRADE!
I remember Andrew. His heart was so open. He was generous with his affection. And what I remember most is how his adoration and the numerous love letters he wrote to me made me feel so mature. So worthwhile. (THIRD GRADE!)
Maybe it is because we are coming off of Thanksgiving or because I am still floating a little because of my weekend away last week, but I feel these words—the riches that I uncovered today—fully. Real feelings. By real people. Directed to me. They make me feel useful. They make me feel content. They make me feel like cleaning out closets is more than a metaphor for brushing away the cobwebs from within my own cluttered brain. But, of course, being the metaphor lover that I am, this occurred to me.
I will find a scanner. I will post the gerbil. And maybe a few other salient tidbits, too. You will see that Sarah and I are now who we always have been. We have aged and grown and changed with our circumstances, sure. But we still are the little sister looking so much for the praise of her big sister, and the big sister saying DUH, of course I love you, you dimwit. We are Andrew Shedlock and me. Except, I don’t think I ever told Andrew that I cared for him. I’m sure I didn’t tell him how much I cherished his love letters. I don’t even remember if I wrote back. And for this, I am truly sorry. Because our past informs who we are today. The words Sarah and Andrew and others wrote—and the experiences I can relive because of those words—not only bring me back but make me realize how much I am the same person that I always have been.
And I know that when (in a few years) my own third-grade son comes home IN LOVE with a classmate or my daughters fight and make up on a daily basis I will remember the power of the words of my own childhood friends (Sarah included). I will not dismiss the intensity of my children’s feelings and interactions. And for this I have both Andrew and Sarah to thank.
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I love this post, Jen. I recently unearthed a box full of letters I’d received and journals I’d kept as an adolescent and they made me cringe. At the time I thought it was my own immaturity that made me want to close the notebooks and fold up the papers. But I think you’re on to something here: “our past informs who we are today. The words Sarah and Andrew and others wrote—and the experiences I can relive because of those words—not only bring me back but make me realize how much I am the same person that I always have been. ” Maybe the cringing was because I recognized my current Me in that historical Me. Maybe it’s time to open that box back up – for blogging fodder if nothing else!
I know what you mean about the cringing. I had to ease myself into it. First I looked through the stuff from Sarah. Then moved on to other stuff. I have a beautiful antique chest full of journals, and reading through them is a whole different story. I do like to look at the chest, though.
These are treasures! It’s one of the only reasons (on my planet) for cleaning! Make sure you take good care of those special cards and papers and letters. Put them somewhere safe – and acid free, so your kids can enjoy them (and chuckle) in 20 years. You’ll smile all over again, too.
Yes. I agree. One of the only reasons for cleaning. I have been organizing all weekend. Decluttering a bit. Anticipating Santa’s arrival in mere weeks. Yikes.
My son did attache himself to a few funny things. An Easter card I had made for my parents when I was probably about his age (5), a “book” I made listing all different kinds of soda, etc. Funny! He’s so sentimental already.
For a moment I thought you may be coming out of the closet which surely would have made for exciting reading for a Saturday morning! :)
One of the reasons I am unable to keep my house mess-free is because of the massive amount of treasures that I hold onto. My closet at my parents house is the same way. I have EVERY love note, note passed in class (folded into tiny triangles), picture, newspaper clipping with me or a friend (or hopeful boyfriend), etc. And I can spend HOURS digging through them every time I’m home remembering. I am so easily brought back to those days. I still recall the lumps in my throat as a boy told me he didn’t like me anymore, the giddiness I felt when he did, the excitement I experienced when I was invited to the “cool kids” party.
It’s so much fun to find these treasures. I think I’m going to have to look through a few today! happy Thanksgiving Jen!
Folded into tiny triangles! And, did you have little notebooks that you passed back and forth? I have a ton of them. Those tiny 2×3 spiral notebooks, with years of “notes” back and forth. Such fun.
As for coming out, I’ve already done that. And then I had to do it again, kind of in reverse. There’s a post for another day.
Thanks for bringing your past into the present. Those words, drawings, letters are definitely who you were and who you are.
I went through a box of pictures with a good friend last time he visited. Just looking at some brought back amazing thoughts that I shared. It is so true that we don’t necessarily realize how we come to be who were are today lots of times. We are who we are because of what and who was in our past.
Thanks for sharing and BLW is right. Be sure to save those for your kids in 20 years.
Thanks, Nicki. I definitely look at all of these things with a different mindset now that I have kids who want me to save every piece of artwork they create (dozens weekly). My son already is SO sentimental, and I really have to be careful I don’t ditch everything on days like today when I am purging everywhere. But these little creations, past, present and future, show so much of ourselves. And I will hold on to more than I have room for, I’m sure.
Treasures, indeed! My Mama always made me purge on a regular basis, but once in a while I’ll come across something that will bliss me out.
I’d kill for an old letter with Barftown, USA as the return address. A Jewel.
I scanned Miss D.’s love letter to her “boyfriend” on Valentine’s Day…that girl wears her heart on her sleeve, like Andrew.
GET A SCANNER. I NEED to see the gerbil.
We had gerbils growing up until one day, to our horror, we woke up to a hideous sight. My gerbil (Laverne) had eaten Shirley. My poor sister.
Laverne and Shirley! Love it. I had only males. They stayed away from each other at mealtime.
I will be going to work early tomorrow so I can SCAN. Barftown, USA. So funny. (Kind of sad, too, I guess. But funny, now that we’ve all made it out of suburban teenager-hood.)
The stories of your childhood remain exciting mysteries throughout adulthood. I try to keep a regular journal so I can look back and have experiences like what you have shared. Memories of the past. Hope for the future. Isn’t that what letters and keepsakes are for?
In third grade, to be blessed with that undying love, is an awesome feat. One which your words so eloquently describe. We all need someone to love us. Give us love notes without shame. Perhaps we should do the same for someone around us?
Another thought provoking and beautifully written post. Thanks Jen!
I wish I still kept a journal regularly. Somewhere along the way, motherhood drained me of all opportunity to write in journal form. Maybe momalom is a bit of a journal for these days.
And, you are so correct about love notes. I think we all should write and receive more of them. Really, have you ever regretted telling someone how you really feel. Well, maybe, but you shouldn’t. None of us should. My relationship with my Sweetie was built on love letters, and I still write them for him–for us–a few times a year (not nearly enough).
Treasures indeed.
My sisters and I have done this. We have gone through cabinets and shelves and found the most amazing things – letters, stories, wacky pictures. There is nothing better than rummaging through our childhoods for clues to who we are today. Because as you say, “our past informs who we are today.”
I do hope you find a scanner!
I wonder if Sarah has any of the letters I wrote to her. Sarah? Maybe they’re in mom’s attic still. Not sure. But it would be so fun to pair the letters up and read the ensuing conversation!
Aw, Andrew touched my heart. My own third grade little boy has a lifelong love in his classroom. He talks about her, draws pictures for her, and sticks by her side during every school event. I wonder if one day he’ll be her Andrew.
I had two long-distance love affairs in my teens that came complete with more letters than I knew what to do with. And they were secret, hidden letters because (of course) my mother did not approve. Sadly, at the end of each relationship, I burned the letters. It was the angsty thing to do.
I do still find Important Stuff from my childhood — like the 4H babysitting certificate I discovered at my mom’s house during Thanksgiving — that bring a rush of wonderful memories. They are priceless.
Oh, I burned a few things too, along the way. So sad and regretful about that. I wonder what the words said, now. If time diminished their impact and importance. I found a bunch of certificates, too. And old school photos, a report on Enrico Fermi. Funny, funny stuff!
i think i hold onto those things so i never forget what it was like to be 7 or 10 or 12. when my kids are those ages, i hope i’ll still be able to understand the school aged dramas.
Yes. It is so different to relive my own childhood now that I have these three kids having their own. I am trying to remember, though, especially when they are driving me berserk. Their emotions are so strong and so real and will have a lasting impact on who they ultimately grow up to be. But, oh, the DRAMA.
I have a treasure trove of these same mementos but for me digging them up and reading through them simply remind me of how DIFFERENT I am and I get sad. Perhaps I’m not looking at it through the right lenses. I will try this perspective and I thank you in advance! This was a fabulous post!
Shana, I feel different, too. But when I read a lot of what I found without interpretation, I see that I am so much the same. The foundation of how I see things and feel things–it’s still the same. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. But if I let myself see it, it’s there. I hope you can enjoy your own treasures with more than just sadness. I think it’s natural, though, to be introspective and a little regretful. Growing up is difficult. And being an adult is icky compared to those days of watercolors and gerbil drawings.
Yes, treasures! I wrote a post a while back called Rewriting My Name…I had done this very thing, gone through boxes of old things. I was overcome with memories, some of them pulling me back to a place that I fear. The place where I’m lying to myself, saying “you past informs me that you’re bad.” And then I had this beautiful moment with my oldest son, where I was reminded that I am still the same person, and mostly becoming the best version of that person, no matter what I’ve done or left undone.
Hope that made sense. I’m sick in bed. waa waa waa :)