Boxes of Memories
Bird by Bird, One Potato at a Time and Other Musings on the Mind
I came across a post from a few years back and as often happens, it was a timely encounter. At the time I was staying with my folks nursing a broken foot which gave me a lot of time for reflection, soul searching, and going through boxes of “stuff.”
As a sensitive, memories often scare me, for the pain and fear they can bring up. I think this is common for humans in general, and is compounded when your childhood is impacted by trauma. The pain and fear don’t necessarily come from a bad memory, just the sense of loss at times gone by, versions of people I know who have faded away, fear of losing the people/things that make me happy now, etc. Over time, I have learned to compartmentalize my memories. To put them away in a box at the back of my brain when I can’t handle them. And to give more energy to the ones that bring me joy and growth.
But sometimes I lie awake in the wee hours of the night scared of the opposite of memories - forgetting. I think its pretty normal for memories to get vague or disappear into the recesses of the mind, for a variety or reasons, including as a coping mechanism for trauma. Well thats fabulous not to remember painful things from my childhood, but what if I want to remember things since then!?
I’m so in love with my husband, for example, and I don’t want our shared story to fade away. I love my family, and wish I could recall so much from my childhood after adoption. How do I preserve memories that I want to treasure? I think one of the answers is journaling which I’ve always wanted to get back to but as always….I need to find (make) the time.
Mindfulness came up in Christmas dinner conversation. Its another thing I’ve always wanted to work harder at but have felt daunted by. I’ve not done much work on actual sit-in-a-quiet-place-and-let-your-thoughts-flow meditation, but Andy and I have a couple of phrases in the live-in-the-moment vein:
“Bird By Bird” - This one is from Anne Lamott in her book Bird By Bird, a book to help writers work mindfully instead of getting overwhelmed thinking of the daunting task of writing a whole book.
“One Potato at a Time”- This one comes from one of Andy’s co-workers who told us once of picking potatoes with his grandfather (Maine is one of the top potato producers in the US). He was bored and despairing the rows ahead of him. His grandfather wisely told him to focus on one potato at a time.
From the original post that sparked today’s musings:
“I’ve been in cleanout mode this week - even though my “stuff” has been reduced to a small amount of totes and boxes, it’s still too much for my increasingly minimalistic lifestyle. So I’ve been doing another round of paring down and thought I would share a few things I have held onto over the years.
My grandfather and father’s dog tags. My grandfather passed when I was 12, and he fought in the Battle of the Bulge. My father served in the National Guard. These remind me of the men in my family, of the sacrifices and horrors of war, and to be thankful that I have had a life of peace.
A tiny sandal pendant, a handmade gift from a woman from Peru I met my freshman year of college. It has always reminded me of kindness, humility and simplicity. And now it also reminds me of breaking my foot - how delicate my body is, and how strong it is in healing itself.
A pendant with a mustard seed in it, a Biblical reference. This was my great aunt’s who had a strong Christian faith. I am no longer religious but it has always reminded me that faith in something - for me its in humankind and in myself - can move mountains.
The lighthouse pendant was my high school graduation gift from my parents. For years I watched them give scrimshaw style gifts to graduates, a nod to our state’s maritime heritage. When my turn finally came, I felt so much honor. It has always reminded me of patience and of my deep love of the ocean and lighthouses. That specific location is The Nubble aka Cape Neddick not far from where I grew up.
An eagle pendant my parents gave me. It reminds me to be brave enough to fly, and to trust my wings. And it reminds me to appreciate my parents for nurturing me, equipping me with practical life lessons, fostering my adventurous spirit and loving me regardless of the distances I fly away.
A ring my brother used to wear and passed on to me. And a photo of us my aunt took when I was 18 or 19 I believe - 25 years ago! It reminds me of our strong sibling bond, which survived abuse, foster care and adoption. Our adoptive parents kept us together and because of that priceless gift, the man I have known since the day he was born is still my best friend. I’m immensely proud of him, and I’m proud of myself too (though that feeling comes and goes). I look at us so young and carefree, dancing in the driveway, and it brings me great joy to know we are still bonded, and how hard we have both fought to keep our lights shining no matter what life throws at us.
A Lamont tartan scarf, which we believe came from my Scottish great grandmother. I’m lucky to have both biological (MacKenzie) and adoptive ties to Scotland. Mary Burton Steele Turner (whose mother was a Rae and grandfather was a Colquhoun) grew up in a tenement in Govan in the early 1900s before immigrating to Maine. This scarf reminds me of the Scottish heritage of my adoptive family.
Those are just a few little things from my boxes. Out of frame there’s my great grandfather’s change purse, stacks of antique Scottish books, notes from my Mom, my grandmother’s dress, my other grandmothers purse, and more. The things that always make their way safely back into their boxes, never at risk from my clean outs.
Thanks for reading my musings. I hope that the reminders I get from the things I cherish might benefit you in some way too.”
If I took that photo today, there would be a receipt in Andy’s handwriting from the day I met him on the steps of his ranger station, a piece of tree bark from the day we walked our 10 acres in the woods scouting the site for our off grid home, a reindeer hide bracelet from one of my friend
’s many adventures, and other reminders of things precious to me.The mind is a fascinating, scary, wonderful place. Its important to put in the work to understand it, to have the courage to face it, fight it and embrace it - only you can know which is necessary depending on the current season of your life. And whenever my mental health gets low, I recall my Mom’s wise words in times of trial - “This too shall pass.”
Thanks for reading, I hope you’re having a good end of the year, and if not remember - this too shall pass :)
Lilly