We went through the detritus of my life downstairs today.
Well, as dramatic as that may sound, this involved going through nearly a dozen boxes of books and magazines that are down there. The vast majority of the contents can be directly associated to me, and not Samantha.
Books from University 15 years ago. Papers I had written. Books bought, then never read. Technical books, once relevant, now dated.
400 pounds of books to be sold at 10 cents a pop (6 for $1) when we have a garage sale. If you need novels, books on Canadian and Medieval History, novels, Jungian Psychology, novels, and metaphysical reading material, we will keep you posted on the date.
It’s just hard to go through this stuff without connecting each of the items to a time and a place. Most were impulse buys, but connected to some point in my life where they were relevant and even important to me.
Now, like so much in my life, they have to fade into the background. I have moved on. I had forgotten the person who bought these books until today, and it is like having the dust kicked up in a house: disturbing to the senses.
I will be happy to see them go.