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That quote? Line? Burst of inspiration? Was etched into the bottom of my memory box.
In high school I took all the art classes. In one of them we had a project to make a memory box. I'm very fortunate to have an uncle who is awesome at making anything, basically, and he fashioned me a very lovely ... wood of some kind box. It's has a slanted lid and a hinge and a place for a lock if I wanted & everything. It's just a small thing, about 12"x12" but it was exactly what I wanted. I painted a flower on the front and quotes from songs I found relevant at the time on the outside and on the inside I shellaced photos of friends and movie stubs and drama club things that were my whole world at that time.
The box is now filled with all my high school and early uni stuff. Photos and the wrist corsages from my prom & grad, cards, etc. Mementoes from my late childhood, early adulthood that meant something to me at the time.
I haven't been home in a couple years so of course I had to go through it. I don't really remember half the people I have photos of in it and drama is no longer a big thing in my life. The flowers on the corsages are brown and flaking off into the box and I don't even know why some of the things in the box were significant to me anymore.
The few uni things that are in there are things I put in the box because I wasn't really sure where else they should go but I wanted to save them. They're the "one of these things is not like the other" of the box. But that's where they remain because early uni was such a flux time in my life.
I've started a new memory box in Medicine Hat. It's bigger and I bought it for less than $10 at London Drugs. It's pink and feels like fake suede and if I ever trip into it or fall onto it or something it'll crumple like tissue. It's also filled with photos and movie stubs but when I look through the things in that box they have more ... memorable memories, I guess. They almost feel tangible.
Part of me really didn't want to go through my stuff here when I came home because there's so many things that bring back memories I don't want anymore. They helped form who I am now, yes, but even with all the time and space between then and now they make me uncomfortable. Some of them came up from looking into the memory box. But this time I feel calm after looking through it. I took some photos and video as I went through it because for some reason I don't know when the next time I'm going to be back here and when I'm going to see that stuff again.
I won't let my mom throw it out, no, but there's a good chance it might be anyway. She could move it to the basement or put it in the closet and then it'll get forgotten or she'll move (hope, hope, hope!) and it'll be one of those things that just doesn't get packed. I have other things I would rather have over it instead.
It's such a small box of small things; it would take up little room in a bigger box with other things or wouldn't cost much to ship back to the Hat but I've put it back on the shelf, and that's where it will stay. As I put it back I saw the quote in the bottom, etched in very clumsily by my 16 year old self, it felt okay.
This is the first time I can ever remember feeling like I WANT to go away from home again, where I'm not feeling a sense of dread and fear over leaving. I wish my mom could come with me, I wish she didn't have to stay here. I know this is the last time I'll see my dog again because she's in very poor health and her body is coming to a stop on her. I know that the next time I come here, whenever that is, I'm going to feel a very serious disconnect with the town, even moreso than I feel right now.
I fought against myself so hard to not allow myself to call anyplace home BUT home and then it just happened anyway. Not saying that Medicine Hat is where I'm going to lay my weary bones but I'm not defiantly against it anymore, either. I'll always be from New Brunswick, always be made fun of for the way I talk, always speak of my town and the area with pride. But now I'm okay to let some place else benefit from that dedication, too.
In high school I took all the art classes. In one of them we had a project to make a memory box. I'm very fortunate to have an uncle who is awesome at making anything, basically, and he fashioned me a very lovely ... wood of some kind box. It's has a slanted lid and a hinge and a place for a lock if I wanted & everything. It's just a small thing, about 12"x12" but it was exactly what I wanted. I painted a flower on the front and quotes from songs I found relevant at the time on the outside and on the inside I shellaced photos of friends and movie stubs and drama club things that were my whole world at that time.
The box is now filled with all my high school and early uni stuff. Photos and the wrist corsages from my prom & grad, cards, etc. Mementoes from my late childhood, early adulthood that meant something to me at the time.
I haven't been home in a couple years so of course I had to go through it. I don't really remember half the people I have photos of in it and drama is no longer a big thing in my life. The flowers on the corsages are brown and flaking off into the box and I don't even know why some of the things in the box were significant to me anymore.
The few uni things that are in there are things I put in the box because I wasn't really sure where else they should go but I wanted to save them. They're the "one of these things is not like the other" of the box. But that's where they remain because early uni was such a flux time in my life.
I've started a new memory box in Medicine Hat. It's bigger and I bought it for less than $10 at London Drugs. It's pink and feels like fake suede and if I ever trip into it or fall onto it or something it'll crumple like tissue. It's also filled with photos and movie stubs but when I look through the things in that box they have more ... memorable memories, I guess. They almost feel tangible.
Part of me really didn't want to go through my stuff here when I came home because there's so many things that bring back memories I don't want anymore. They helped form who I am now, yes, but even with all the time and space between then and now they make me uncomfortable. Some of them came up from looking into the memory box. But this time I feel calm after looking through it. I took some photos and video as I went through it because for some reason I don't know when the next time I'm going to be back here and when I'm going to see that stuff again.
I won't let my mom throw it out, no, but there's a good chance it might be anyway. She could move it to the basement or put it in the closet and then it'll get forgotten or she'll move (hope, hope, hope!) and it'll be one of those things that just doesn't get packed. I have other things I would rather have over it instead.
It's such a small box of small things; it would take up little room in a bigger box with other things or wouldn't cost much to ship back to the Hat but I've put it back on the shelf, and that's where it will stay. As I put it back I saw the quote in the bottom, etched in very clumsily by my 16 year old self, it felt okay.
This is the first time I can ever remember feeling like I WANT to go away from home again, where I'm not feeling a sense of dread and fear over leaving. I wish my mom could come with me, I wish she didn't have to stay here. I know this is the last time I'll see my dog again because she's in very poor health and her body is coming to a stop on her. I know that the next time I come here, whenever that is, I'm going to feel a very serious disconnect with the town, even moreso than I feel right now.
I fought against myself so hard to not allow myself to call anyplace home BUT home and then it just happened anyway. Not saying that Medicine Hat is where I'm going to lay my weary bones but I'm not defiantly against it anymore, either. I'll always be from New Brunswick, always be made fun of for the way I talk, always speak of my town and the area with pride. But now I'm okay to let some place else benefit from that dedication, too.