As S. has grown over the past two and a half years, I have consistently given away her toys, books, and clothes to family and friends with small children. I did, however, keep her two favorite baby toys and intended to put them away in a box for her. My parents had done the same for me – kept some baby outfits, my baptismal candle, and a JCPenny catalog from the year I was born. Those items have long been lost in their hoard, but I know they existed, and I remember looking at them at least once during my early adolescence with curiosity and appreciation.
My two selected toys to keep were Sophie the Giraffe, the iconic (and ridiculously expensive) French squeaking rubber chew toy for babies and a little cow/teether/mirror thing that was the first toy S. brought to her mouth on her own on her first major trip while we were stranded in Milwaukee.
About two weeks ago S. found Sophie and asked to bring her to the bathtub. Sophie’s leg quickly sprang a leak, which S. picked at until it became an unfixable hole. Today I laid Sophie to rest in the trash.
It has never been excessively hard for me to throw away broken toys or ruined clothing, but the moment when I had to hide Sophie in the trashcan so S. wouldn’t try to drag her back out again was a little disconcerting. It almost felt like burying babyhood but without the celebration that should entail.
Posted in hoarding identity, memory hoarding
Tagged baby, babyhood, buried, bury, clothing, cow, giraffe, hoard, JCPenny, ruined, Sophie, toy, trash, trashcan
Our almost 2-year-old has a new favorite activity: throwing things in the trashcan. She especially enjoys stripping the “clothes” off of her crayons and throwing the paper away.
The desire to whittle away at piles of stuff is new to me, but the compulsion to eliminate grows. On Monday when it was time to start writing, I was overcome for the first time with the deep urge to sell something on craigslist. I felt it had been too many days since I’d last let go of my past.
A man who owns a thriftstore in a nearby town contacted me about a jewelry box I had listed. He asked me to bring any other collectibles, especially jewelry, but he was also interested in a number of items I do not own such as guns and knives. I scurried around the house grabbing objects without reflecting on them. For $20 Mike bought a big chunk of jewelry, some of it possibly valuable jade, lapis, silver and gold pieces, as well as a small box given to me by a friend when we were about 12 years old. The box was the only item to which I attached any meaning (significant given my first wedding band was in the lot), even though that friend is only a vague connection on facebook today. While that piece stirred the most hesitation in me, I had not thought of it again until writing this today. I have it captured on film. Its memory is enough.
Posted in from my hoard to yours
Tagged box, collectible, compulsion, craigslist, eliminate, enough, jewelry, let go, memory, photo, sell, trashcan