The other day, while moving storage boxes around preparing for the move I had a sort of [seemingly obvious] revelation: What if I never do get around to organizing this memorabilia? Why should I think it will ever be a priority if it hasn't been yet? And What if I never do go back and "scrapbook" these fragments into understandable stories? What then?
There are writing samples from preschool and kindergarten. Dis-jointed, immature stories scratched out on jagged torn notebook paper. Wild, over-sized, paint-smeared posters that a caring teacher gently encouraged my child to create.
One thing is certain, I will not move a large rubbermaid tote of this into a new place. I want to photograph and examine the present in the present, without the distraction of that muffled, nagging collection calling my name from the back of some closet.
If ever there was a time to do anything with it, the time is now.
I didn't wait to purchase pretty linen albums. Some extra binders from our family business work just fine.
With the box plunked down on the bedroom floor I ruthlessly edited years of tender fledgling artwork and penmanship, culling everything into four piles. One for each of the kids; one for myself. Mind you I thought I had honed what was important earlier; only having kept what was truly special - but no - there was excess, and plenty of it. Then I cut and scaled things to fit in slip sleeves, and snap into the binders they went.
The most interesting bits are the girls' writing samples. I'm going through my digital photo library today adding a few favorite photos to accompany those stories that they chose to focus on for school years ago. I'm printing 8.5x11 enlargements (at persnicketyprints.com).
It's not pretty or stylized (though I am adding a little of that this week - very minimally), but it's done. This feels so good. No more waiting. No more big box! And I feel 100% less crazy than when I accumulated things for some day.
