My garage is the most recent resting place for artifacts from the house we kids grew up in.

Smaller things have been boxed up till brother’s are able to come to Albuquerque to go through old photos, personal and business letters, ancient sales receipts and copies of contracts completed, old coins, mementos from family trips and reunions, political pins, old Time magazines and National Geographic’s, items of clothing that don’t fit any of us.

These larger artifacts keep me from using my garage and photos have been emailed to the guys to claim any of these larger items before they are donated to charitable organizations.

Seeing these items out of their original places  is disconcerting. 

What is more difficult than disposing of stuff is dealing with memories.

How we hold thousands and thousands of memories between our ears and still function is very much a miracle. 

We can share our memories but we can’t give them away, trade them for a newer model, or sell them at the flea market.

This stuff comes with lots of memories, and when the stuff is out of sight, memories will be largely out of mind.

Too many memories ,juggled at once, makes keeping one’s equilibrium nearly impossible





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