Wednesday, August 31, 2011


I've before professed the dangerous likelihood that I my qualify for an episode of Hoarders: Buried Alive. Plainly put, I have a penchant for hanging on. And sometimes some things find themselves in storage just because I don't know what else to do.

Perhaps this is how the bunch of flowers I carried down the aisle on the day I wed my husband found a home on the top shelf of my closet. I found it, more than a dozen years later in a rush to move out everything we had packed into our bathroom, closet, and laundry room. We had to find a new place for all that crap -- sentimental items and otherwise -- before the demolition crew showed up and the hurry afforded little time for contemplation. But when I pulled the small and dusty box that weighed next to nothing from its perch I was confused.

I didn't know why I'd kept it in the first place. I didn't know if I wanted to keep it anymore. I didn't know if you were meant to keep something like that. I didn't know if I could stomach stuffing the bouquet that witnessed my vows into a trash bin. My husband wasn't confused.

"Toss it."

Now, let's get something straight. First he gently said all the right things. And then I finally just asked him what I should do. And he gave a frank and honest answer.

So, all you sentimental types are gasping right now. Right? But I didn't even keep the top layer of my wedding cake. Well actually someone did -- who knows who -- and snuck it into my fridge while I was on my honeymoon. And when I returned I think I shrieked, "Ewwwwww!" Just before dumping it down the sink.

I'm glad he said it. He said what I was thinking. And sometimes I have trouble making myself do what I'm thinking I should do. (Ironically enough I never have trouble saying what I'm thinking, which is usually a problem.)

In conclusion: the dusty little box that weighed next to nothing was picked up with the rest of the remnants of our construction zone this past Thursday. And I didn't notice. But the man who was standing at the end of the aisle as I grappled with my nerves and clung onto that clutch of flowers is still here. And that, my friends, I notice.

PS -- I kept the straight pins that held the ribbons around the stems of the bouquet. Just for hoarders' sake.


Glenda said...

It was such a beautiful bouquet...when it was fresh....and you have pictures! Great post.

Claudia said...

I so understand the dilemma. Though I have long since gotten rid of my beautiful bouquet, I had this same logic vs. sentiment smack-down. Logic won with the bouquet, but sentiment wins quite regularly. Maybe I should just take pictures like you. That would certainly solve the problem of letting go of something that has absolutely no value/use, but I always want to hang on to. I feel inspired...

laurel said...

Funny. I have mine, but it isn't real, an 80's thing.

I have a give-a-way on my blog. Come over and tell one of your great stories.

laurel said...

You bet I used my German paragraph about Fritz and the records. Thanks for asking! It is the first time all year. ;)