This weekend I flew home to Arizona to spend some time with my family. We celebrated new transitions and birthdays and we unwrapped presents under a makeshift holiday ficus tree.
Oh, and my mom finally made me clean out my childhood closet. You wouldn’t believe the things I found: so many old pictures, and boxes of hand written letters, playbills, and vacation mementos, and well hidden bottles of booze (we had a good laugh about that one).
It was strange going through all those memories- emotional, and funny, and exhausting all wrapped up in one small closet. It got me thinking, though, about how easily things are lost. Of how memories and feelings sometimes falter in the space from one decade to the next.
It sort of reminded me that life is more or less just a collection of moments. Moments that lead to a collection of events that lead to the stories that make up our lives. Its sort of a simple thought but I found it comforting.
And I’m glad that I have this blog to record some of those memories because I don’t think I’ll ever have enough closet space to store them all.