I threw away a lot of memories today. Hurricane Sandy drowned
them in filthy water and putrid sand and mud. It hurt when I tossed the guest books from the funeral homes that took care of my grandparents and
parents. Inside one of them was a letter that I
wrote to my dad toward the end of his life. My handwriting is still visible on
the slippery paper but I'm afraid that if I move the paper the words will slide off. In this same soggy mess I found a perfect dollar bill where my dad
had written, “I Love You” to my mom. It made me cry.
Most of the things that Sandy stole were pieces of my
childhood. Of course I have my memories
but as I get older, the memories will begin to fade and I might need something
to touch, read or gaze at. I dumped a bunch of old pictures too. They were of relatives from a century
ago. Sandy washed their names away so I
tossed them in the black bags too; so long strangers.
I wound up keeping a couple of sweaters that belonged
to my dad and mom along with a bag of my mom- mom’s linens. I also picked up a sampler that my mom worked on in
elementary school. I can’t get all of the mold spots out of it but at least I saved
it.
As I pitched the pieces of my childhood I had a
thought. Perhaps my parents had Sandy
destroy all that stuff because they wanted
me to get rid of it and to save some of my own memories. Maybe, but when that
happens I’ll be sure to place them on the highest shelf.