saving the memories we’ll find

Another entry from my new blog site:

Grandpa’s house is almost done. It’s a huge relief, but at the same time it’s kind of sad. I’ve had fun working so hard with Mom… I really truly have. She and I have our own little world there, and despite the dust and bugs and dead mouse, and raccoons… bags and boxes and dirt and wood… we’ve had a lot of laughs. I guess the nice thing about throwing things away is that you have to sort through all the junk you (or anyone else) ever made an effort to save and actually get to see it. In fact, I’ve determined after all this, that the only reason anything is ever saved, is so that some day when you’re going through things and pitching, you will have that moment where you open a box and see something from the past that sparks a flood of memories. You’ll get that fond gleam in your eyes, and think… gee, did I save that? You’ll turn to your daughter (if she’s around) and tell her why you still have it, what it’s from… when it’s from… she’ll learn about you, or if you’re alone you’ll remember something about yourself. But of course you’ll never look at it again, so you might as well pitch it… after all you didn’t look at it for the past 5 to 30 years – but saving it achieved your goal. A long lost memory, a long lost chapter of your life – resurrected for a mere instant.

I must say my adventures in cleaning out a house have also resulted in meeting the most interesting people in the world. It’s taught me a lot about first impressions – and how vastly wrong they are. We met everyone from Tom, our friendly raccooon-removal man who practically became family, to Karl and Dave, the intellectuals who moved our furniture out. There was Jimmy and his friend, the antique dealers, C.C., the man who owned the waste service, and two different truck drivers for the deliverance and pick up of the dumpster… Snuf, the plumber, Marylee, the real estate agent and her daughter Heather, the three rather buff men from the piano movers, and of course our awesome (temporary) neighbor Pat and her husband Dick. I can’t tell you how much meeting all of them has meant to me… it has truly instilled an inner-people-liking in me… as frightening as that is. Except for, perhaps, C.C. But you can’t expect everything, now can you? Maybe some day I will tell about each of them in detail… it would be quite the character sketch.

Have I reverted back into my old anti-social self? Reverting perhaps is not the word… I think it’s just a part of me that’s always in existence. It’s not that I don’t love my friends… it’s not that I don’t want to see them… it just seems like after spending so much working on the house, all I want to do is come home to my dad and sister (ok and maybe my computer) and crash. I don’t feel like getting ready to go out… I really don’t. Seems like I’ve been spending all my weeks at Grandpa’s old house, and all my weekends with the Muellers. -laughs- Not sure how that happens, but that’s ok… they’re fun people. 😉 Ahh well… maybe soon I’ll be on a normal sleep schedule again (meaning sleeping from 2:30am to 11:30am) instead of this to bed early wake up early stuff. It’s really disgusting…