From the Desk of Janet Barclay

This past weekend I had the wonderful experience of attending my high school reunion, and my head is still spinning from reconnecting with long lost friends and memories of forgotten infatuations.

Part of my getting ready for the event involved the gathering of memorabilia. I have probably kept more odds and ends than a lot of people, but because I’m so organized, it was easy to put my hands on them.

I used to keep my mementos in various small boxes, but 15 or 20 years ago I bought a fairly big Rubbermaidtote, so I could store it all in one place. I call it my “treasure box.” It also helped me keep the volume under control, as when my treasure box became full, I knew it was time to let something go. Then my mom passed away and I brought home a lot of her keepsakes (I suspect that I either inherited or learned this tendency from her). To accommodate the additional stuff, I moved all paper memorabilia to a banker’s box, keeping the Rubbermaid tote for all others.

While going through the banker’s box for music night programs and anything else that might be of interest, I realized that there was a lot of stuff in that box that I really had no attachment to, so I made a mental note to go through it some rainy day and decide how much of it is really important to me.

I had three small photo albums from that era that I wanted to take with me, but wanting to minimize the weight of my purse, I realized by picking and choosing the most interesting ones, I could narrow it down to two. During this process, I threw away several things that didn’t interest even me, including photos of babies who are now adults that I have never met in person, and a mass card given to me by a coworker when his father died, which I’m not even sure why I kept that in the first place.

On the morning of the reunion, I received an email from the only friend I have maintained consistent, although infrequent, contact with since graduation (shown with me in the above photo), mentioning that she was planning to wear her choir sweater. I thought that would be fun, and knew I’d kept mine for the longest time, but couldn’t remember seeing it lately. I didn’t think I’d have gotten rid of it, as one of my criteria for keeping something seems to be based on the length of time I’ve already had it. I looked in the Rubbermaid tote, and there it was! My husband looked at me like I had two heads when I told him I was planning to wear it, so I said, “I’ve kept it all this time; when else would I wear it, if not for this?” It was pretty dingy, even after washing, and although I brought the sweater with me, it remained in my car the whole night. It is now in my donations bag, hopefully destined to be part of someone’s costume in the future.

This experience has me questioning how many of my “treasures” have actual meaning for me. I think I’m ready to let go of a lot of them, maybe even to the point where everything fits in the Rubbermaid tote and I can use the banker’s box for something else. It may be a big job, but instead of thinking of it as a chore, I’m going to savour every minute of it!