Memory Lane

Very often I sit down and write about my children. Today, I have a story about my mom. Since my mom's trip to the Holy Land, I've pretty much been forbidden from writing about her again. She never directly forbid me but my mom has a way of communicating without saying a word.

But today as we made major strides in cleaning out the rooms upstairs in my parents house, I shared an experience with her that I want to share and hope to never forget.

Part of the reason my mom asked me to help her clean out the upstairs is because I love to throw things away. After college, I threw out my laptop without a second thought and without transferring my files and every single thing I had written since high school. Of course I regret my decision, but at least there was one less thing to move.

Even I couldn't help myself today, stopping an extra minute or two to read through old diaries and check out who wrote what in my eighth grade yearbook. Going through so many years of nostalgia, I actually found myself thinking twice before I tossed into the trash.

As I slipped deeper into my reverie, I was abruptly brought back to reality by a nudge in my shoulder and an all too familiar voice.

"Hey, this isn't memory lane. Either toss it out or take it home," Tina said.

And so for the rest of the time, I moved quickly around making progress, throwing out and keeping the things that I wouldn't regret moving from place to place.