Much of the family's history remained in the cluttered spaces of bookshelves, closets, and the old oak sideboard filled with antique china, glass, and the abiding aroma of bourbon wafting from the omnipresent closed doors.
Onward to the task of cleaning (then) and proceeding (now), I must say that among the self-proclaimed debris was "the box" that could easily have met its end with one swift toss, had fate not protected it and its contents for centuries. What could I do? After a peak at a couple of ancient letters and documents,and a large sigh (just repeated in retrospect), I pushed "the box" aside and later wedged it into my car for its new journey and life. Four years later, I'm understanding why all that stuff was kept, and believe it or not, (I say to myself) the salvaging and transcribing and chronicling has been enlightening as I have recovered history and discovered my roots' impact on things, great and small.
This is so interesting and should resonate with so many people who are facing downsizing and acknowledging their history. How does one pass down the important things to future generations?? This will be interesting to follow.
ReplyDeleteAlthough your story of old times, traces of lives long ago, is just unfolding, I am anticipating your insightful and fascinating conversations on the road ahead.
ReplyDeleteOh missie, even I(who you know is not a history buff enjoyed this. I want to read the whole story. I am so proud of you for not tossing "the box."
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