Pressed between the pages....

Lately I have been going through boxes in my attic that are full of things that I've carried from place to place over the span of my life.  They are mementos of times gone by and include everything from greeting cards and scrawly art projects to tiny clothing I once wore and ticket stubs with fading ink.  Next to the tub from which I am pulling things is an empty one where I put things I want to keep holding on to.  Some things go in there automatically - tiny shoes, my first doll, cards and letters from grandparents who are no longer here with us.  Some things I dwell on...touching the past in a tangible way and reveling in the memories once more.  Not all the memories are good, but they are all significant in some meaningful way and are part of the mosaic of who I am.  Products of my past.

A sampling...

A card given to my grandfather from my grandmother.  Inside she expressed her love for him in her elegant script and touching it brought tears to my eyes that turned to laughter.  She closed her inscription with the phrase "have a nice day" and that adorable innocence is how I remember her. I may never know if she was really cheating at Yahtzee or just forgot how many times she rolled...

Piles of letters written by my mother whenever I was away - summer camp, school trips, college, student teaching abroad.  She wrote of all the things that were happening in her world, leavings with a splash of home in the midst of whatever strange experiences in which I found myself immersed.  She signed every single one of them "Love ya, Mom" in her familiar hand.

A program for a Meatloaf concert and numerous ticket stubs.  My brother was my concert buddy - still is on a smaller scale.  We would go, for instance, to the Downtown Festival Tent every year to see REO  Speedwagon...even the year that I had just gotten out of the hospital following surgery on my jaw.  So many other concerts that it seemed only fitting that when I graduated from college, he gave me two tickets to see Boston's Walk On tour.  The Meatloaf concert was a deal - I'd go see Steve Miller with him if he'd go see Meatloaf with me. We both loved both concerts.

An envelop full of high school graduation documents showing various accomplishments in the face of what I have increasingly come to see as a very difficult time in my life.  People sometimes say that high school was the best time of their lives.  Not me.  I never felt I fit in anywhere and yet it was a formative time that laid the groundwork for all the successes that came after.  In the face of adversity (of, honestly, a very mundane kind), I made it.  That envelop represents that to me.

A book of early poems.  Oh, they are so wonderful in their juvenile awfulness. The childish scrawl, the teddy bear cover...all of it.  Painful rhymes, choppy rhythms....but there are nuggets there that, again, laid the groundwork for what I think is better, wiser, stronger poetry of which I can be proud.

These things are all special to me - and there is so much more.  I am thinning the collection some.  There are things whose importance has been lost in time and the fog of the past.  There are things of which I am ready to let go.  There are things that just seem silly now.  But all of it begs the question of what will it all mean someday when I am gone?  I think of this sometimes when I find myself shifting through a box lot at an auction with my dad.  Old letters and postcards in flowing script describing someone else's faraway home in a faraway time.  And I'm not sure we value the paper of now as we value the paper of old.  So perhaps it will all someday be recycled and pass out of time and space.   For now, though, they will stay close to me and mine, weaved into the person I am, the person I was, and the person I will someday be.

Looking Back, Going Forward

There are two truths in my life that may seem to be unrelated, but recently I've come to see how they link together like tributaries that eventually feed the same stream.

The first truth is that I do not want children and am not sure if I ever will. I have determined three reasons for this. The first reason is that I'm too selfish; it may sound harsh, but I can honestly say that I like my life the way it is and I'm unwilling to give that up right now. I know that having children changes everything and I'd rather not bring any into the world unless I know I'm ready to sacrifice life as I know it. I know there are countless rewards in parenthood, but that is not enough to remove this basic obstacle to becoming one. The second reason is that the world is often a horrible place and I'm not sure I want to subject a child to it. I know that's a 'big picture' reason which overlooks the microcosm of the immediate family and the smaller joys that life has to offer, but that does not change the truth of the larger world. The world makes me sad in many ways, and I don't want to give it to a child. We should be doing better for the earth and for all the people in it and until we do, I'm not ready to create another generation. The last reason is that I can't think of a reason why I, personally, should have a child. I know that for many it is an amazing and powerful experience that is filled with infinite joys and beauty, and I am so happy for those who feel this way. I do not blame others for wanting children, it is just that those joys and that beauty is not enough of a seed for me to have one myself. Unlike so many who have children and should not, or have children when they are not yet ready, I have thought long and hard about this and I know that this is the right decision for me, for now. I will leave parenting to those infinitely more suited for it, and I will support and love them and their children and celebrate the moments of joy they share with me. And that will be enough.

The second truth is that my last surviving grandparent passed away last July. Four years prior to my parental grandfather's death, to the day, my grandmother left us. I lost my maternal grandmother many years ago, and my maternal grandfather died before I was born. I've also lost an aunt, my mother's youngest sibling. I do not think I have suffered any greater loss than any other who had to say goodbye to a loved one, but these losses pain me greatly, as they do my whole family. We are close knit and not very large, so every loss leaves a deep hole that can never really be filled. We toast on their birthdays, we shed tears randomly, we hear their voices in our heads, we carry mementos with us and decorate our houses with them. Sometimes, I even fancy I see grandpa disappear around a corner or grandma get swallowed within a crowd of taller people. In short, I will never forget them because they are never really gone, though I will ever mourn their tangible absence from my life.

What ties these truths together is more than just that they are both connected to family and the precious and indescribable bonds that tie a strong family together. There is a small part of my heart that feels wistful and guilty about not having children. My sister has two beautiful sons, so it isn't that, but there's something special about giving one's parents grandchildren and carrying on the family traditions, teaching another generation what it means to be a family. This is especially true in today's world, when it seems that divorce is commonplace and tragedy strikes at every and any moment. This tiny feeling of lingering regret that tugs on my heartstrings is what brings me to my grandparents. As the older generation has slipped away from me, I feel like we are also losing our chance to explore the past that went with and before them. In my grandfather's house were stacks of yellowed newspaper clippings that chronicled the weddings, births, and deaths of generation upon generation stretching behind this family of which I am so proud. It is here that I found the means to give back to them.

This is the kernel of my legacy. Instead of continuing the family tree forward down through the years to come, I am working on building the tree backwards, filling in the branches and the missing links, uncovering the roots that brought us to where we are today. This is my gift to the future of my family, this is what I will pass down. Not the living, beating heart of a child, but the means to look down through the ages at all the branches and deep roots that created the boundless love that my sister and my cousins have surrounded their children with and network of love they will feel from aunts and uncles, grandmothers and grandfathers, great aunts and great uncles, cousins, and siblings. I will carry out this labor of love with attentiveness, with devotion, and with care. It is a gift that some will appreciate more actively than others, but it is represents something that every member of our family benefits from every day of their lives, through every word and act of love that we share.

-T