voices from the past
Keeping abreast of the objects that accumulate in my daily life
is, in itself, a rather daunting task. Dealing with objects from
my childhood that sneak up on me and try to bring back memories
would seem to be beyond my limited capabilities. Thus it was with
mixed feelings of both pleasure and consternation that during my
family visit to North America this summer I was presented with a
number of objects from long ago - objects which I was delighted
to receive, and would have been just as happy to have done without.
Actually, as I gaze around
my desk, and then around other parts of our home, I notice that
almost all of my accumulating is considerably post-childhood. And
that's more than enough baggage by itself. Not being loaded down
with childhood objects may have to do with having moved far away
from where I grew up, but I wouldn't be surprised if other people
who save things (or at least don't throw them out) only save items
that they've come into contact with as grown adults.
And considering the limited amount of space available to me to continue
to posess objects, it shouldn't come as a surprise that when I get
the opportunity to save items from my childhood, I find myself hesitating,
and questioning whether there's any reason to do so.