So, I’ve been packing up all the leftovers at my parents’ house for the BigMove coming up and it’s like I’ve stepped into a time capsule.
– doll clothes from childhood –
– scrapbooks from middle school –
– my spoon collection from everywhere –
– nail polish – hair clips – picture frames –
– tiny bras – old calendars – souvenir trinkets –
I have to stop and look through all of it… and it all takes me back.
(obviously, my packing isn’t happening very quickly.)
I told myself I had to find a home for everything. I don’t want to use mom&dad’s house as a storage unit, so if it’s not coming with me, it needs to be willed or donated. But some things that won’t fit in my new life are incredibly difficult to part with:
My “Bunni Boxes”
– passport – suicide note – ritual shoe –
– wii controller – note cards – perfumes –
– cords – crayons – cell phone –
All things I clearly don’t need and can’t use, but I feel like I’m throwing her away if I throw them away. So while I wrestled with accepting that I have to part with the pointless objects – don’t get me wrong, I’ve memorialized plenty of useful things – I flipped through her date book for Fall ’09 and mindlessly went to November 23rd.
What had she written on the day she decided to die?
Nothing.
The next five days all had “Thanksgiving Break” written on them. Following days had exam times, graduation deadlines, appointments, etc.
It broke me.
There’s something backwardly reassuring in the idea that she’d always planned to do it. And, though these dates were probably written at the beginning of the semester, it still aches to know that at one point: she had plans. Plans that didn’t include taking her life. And that will forever cloud my mind with guilt. At some time, I could have done something or not done something to make her want to stay, keep those dates&appointments, and finish 2009.
– doll clothes from childhood –
– scrapbooks from middle school –
– my spoon collection from everywhere –
– nail polish – hair clips – picture frames –
– tiny bras – old calendars – souvenir trinkets –
I have to stop and look through all of it… and it all takes me back.
(obviously, my packing isn’t happening very quickly.)
I told myself I had to find a home for everything. I don’t want to use mom&dad’s house as a storage unit, so if it’s not coming with me, it needs to be willed or donated. But some things that won’t fit in my new life are incredibly difficult to part with:
My “Bunni Boxes”
– passport – suicide note – ritual shoe –
– wii controller – note cards – perfumes –
– cords – crayons – cell phone –
All things I clearly don’t need and can’t use, but I feel like I’m throwing her away if I throw them away. So while I wrestled with accepting that I have to part with the pointless objects – don’t get me wrong, I’ve memorialized plenty of useful things – I flipped through her date book for Fall ’09 and mindlessly went to November 23rd.
What had she written on the day she decided to die?
Nothing.
The next five days all had “Thanksgiving Break” written on them. Following days had exam times, graduation deadlines, appointments, etc.
It broke me.
There’s something backwardly reassuring in the idea that she’d always planned to do it. And, though these dates were probably written at the beginning of the semester, it still aches to know that at one point: she had plans. Plans that didn’t include taking her life. And that will forever cloud my mind with guilt. At some time, I could have done something or not done something to make her want to stay, keep those dates&appointments, and finish 2009.
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