Memories
All you elementary school teachers out there will understand me when I say how hard it is to throw away the handmade birthday cards, the valentines, the glue-crusted, glittery pictures and the first handwritten letters that a kid ever scrawled onto paper. (Parents too can probably identify.) My reluctance to get rid of reminders like these has resulted in my bedroom becoming overrun with mementos, photos, knickknacks and snippets. Every couple years or so, I reassess the importance of the tiny keepsakes that are sprinkling my room. Some of the more poignant items are so saturated with memory that they stay put, while others find a new home in a cardboard box before being shoved into the closet or underneath the bed. And then there is the third category—those that I force myself to say goodbye to. This third category has by far the fewest participants and I always feel a twinge of pain for every little object that I send sailing into the garbage pile. It has only been a year since I last completed this slow and painful process, but the size of my current apartment and the dreary, rainy weekend that we New Yorkers have been handed has pushed me over the edge to once again walk down Memory Lane:
1. Item: Sympathy card and picture that a third student at Red Cloud Indian School drew for me when my chickens—“Samantha” and “Ignatius”— were eaten by my dog, Daisy.
Verdict: cardboard box.
Reason: The story behind the card is somewhat hilarious and its message is bittersweet, reminding me of the genuine sensitivity all young kids have, but the startling real world knowledge a 9 year-old from the reservation has about death.
2. Item: The list of Walt Disney World Guest Service Guidelines that all Disney employees, (or cast members as they are officially called), are to adhere to. (I worked at Magic Kingdom in Orlando, FL for four months nine years ago.)
Verdict: toss.
Reason: While the list is novel to have and is printed on snazzy Tinkerbell paper, by this point in my life I have incorporated all the points that jive with my day-to-day lifestyle. (“Cast members will seek out opportunities to help guests” sounds a little bit like “Actively and intentionally find ways to be men and women for others.” Perhaps Walt Disney and St. Ignatius Loyola had a bit more in common than we thought! ) And as for the rest of the list, I don’t think I’ll ever work for the Walt Disney Company again.
3. Item: Little metal horse that belonged to a friend, mentor and Jesuit priest that I used to work with.
Verdict: It stays put—right on top of my printer.
Reason: I am fond of this horse because it reminds me of my friendship with Fr. Bill Pauly, whom I loved dearly. He used to keep it on his desk in his room and when he passed away the Jesuits at Red Cloud didn’t know what to do with yet another knickknack. I appreciate that my friend Pauly had a little bit of clutter in his life too and I’ve gladly welcomed his trinket onto my desk. The horse stays put.
4. Item—cue cards
Verdict—box
Reason—Elton John used them
5. Item—Rockettes ticket stub
Verdict—box
Reason—friends from Nebraska
6. Item—Bolivian Ministry of Health certificate
Verdict—toss
Reason—still a good story even without the paper
7. Item—rock
Verdict—stays
Reason—I said so (too much to explain)
8. Item— 2006 birthday card
Verdict—move to fridge**
Reason—message warrants daily reminding
**Did I just create a new category?
9. Item—angel
Verdict—stays
Reason—sister’s wedding favor
10. Item—starfish & poem
Verdict—stays
Reason—sometimes cliché is okay
When I go through this spring cleaning process I am forced to confront the fact that I cannot fairly refer to myself as a person who has few possessions. I do not own a car. I do not own a house. I do not have many physical objects outside the contents that I have managed to cram into my bedroom. But, I am a person that relies on knickknacks. I need these little reminders of the past. Why do I need them? Because they remind me of relationship. And relationships energize me, challenge me, cause me to reflect, push me to be a better me. It is also true that I need to be careful to not become too clingy to these objects in and of themselves. (This is why we have cardboard boxes and garbage cans!) Mementos are reminders of the relationship not the relationship in and of itself. In her novel, Housekeeping, Marilynne Robinson describes the function that household items have on our memories:
“There is so little to remember of anyone – an anecdote, a conversation at a table.
But every memory is turned over and over again, every word, however chance,
written in the heart in the hope that memory will fulfill itself, and become flesh,
and that the wanderers will find a way home, and the perished, whose lack we
always feel, will step through the door finally and stroke our hair with dreaming
habitual fondness not having meant to keep us waiting long.”
Objects afford us memories, a sense of connectedness and even hope. This is what religious symbols do for us too. The reason I have a crucifix hanging above my bed is because I want to be reminded, daily, that I am part of the Church community. On a more personal level, I am reminded of my individual friendship with Christ. The cross isn’t the friendship, but it reminds me of the friendship. It isn’t enough to simply surround myself with religious symbolism and call myself a Christian. I need to validate the cross on my wall by living my life in an intentional, prayerful way.
Similarly, I look around my newly organized room at the trinkets that are staying put—the horse, the rock, the angel, the starfish and poem. Each serves as a reminder to me of a relationship in my life. But I do not cling to the reminder or the physical representation of that reminder. I am driven by these objects, by these memories to be a loving friend, to live as a caring sister, to work as a compassionate servant.
I suspect that Ignatius Loyola and Francis Xavier had mementos of their friendship hidden somewhere in their bedrooms too, although, they may have gone through the cleaning-out-process more regularly than some of us.
