A basement suite in Victoria, a small house in Trail, unique houses they designed and built in Dawson Creek and Tumbler Ridge. Every time they moved, stuff went with them. Furniture. Clothes. Household effects. Works of art. Mementos.
And little bits of paper. So many little bits of paper, following them from place to place, packed, unpacked, looked at, put back in the box. Once or twice I have made a stab at going through these papers with an eye to discarding them. I look at these little pieces of paper, saved and stored over the years. I haven't had the heart to throw them out.
Maybe today will be the day as I ponder my own possible next move.
So many pieces of paper, sorted, packed, moved, unpacked, read and re-read. Added to and deleted from over decades of life.
Some make me smile like the Christmas card from my brother "Bobby" and the first thing I ever published in the Edmonton Journal and an article I wrote for the ATA News called "Nice Swim Doug". A photo of my four year old sister from the Peace River Block News. Emails sent by my junior high daughter, printed off and stored away.
Some make me wonder. Why this one Mothers' Day card with the cute kitties? Then I read inside. "The world needs more mothers like you. One more anyway." A card sent to my mom from my cousin just a few months after her own mom had died.
Each piece saved for a reason. But what reason? Who were they saving it for? Each other? Their kids and grandchildren?
Decades of their life story in bits and pieces.
The housekeeper in me wants to throw it away. The archivist in me wants to curate it. The librarian in me wants to organize it. The writer in me dreams of telling their story.
But the daughter in me puts it back in the box.
Little bits of paper.
Your journey is not over yet.