What's in the Box?
What's in the Box?
"Develop a pictorial notebook of prose and poetry," instructed our English teacher in my senior year of high school. My notebook quickly filled with thoughts and pictures that inspired each poem and essay. I saved the notebook, pulled it out of the storage box, and flipped through the pages everytime we moved.
The last time I moved, a well-intentioned friend convinced me I would not miss the box filled with bits of magazine articles and other papers if I threw it away without looking at what was inside.
"If you can't remember what is inside the box without looking, you'll never miss it."
Wrong.
Unfortunately, worn down from the chore of moving, I followed the fateful advice. Later when I started looking for the notebook, I shook my head. It must have been in THE box.
The next search was for a journal that I kept during my mother-in-law's terminal illness. It held thoughts, feelings, perspectives, and lessons learned. I remember much, but when I sought forgotten details, I once again discovered the journal must have been in the box.
Through the years, I continued to dabble in writing. Saddened by the loss of the Atlanta Botanical Garden director, Ann Crammond, I wrote about her indelible influence and charming sense of humor. After the loss of my cousin on 9/11, I penned reflections of our shattered world. I imagine pulling a folder of articles and poems out of my filing cabinet after we moved. Surely these treasures were not in the box. I hope that when I rearranged my files to make room for a home office, I moved the folder to a safe place, although it is nowhere to be found. I refuse to believe these were ever in the box.
Life goes on.
After September 11, I continued writing articles for the Cooperative Extension Service and Master Gardener program, most of which were published in the local paper. Tapping the digital age, everything was saved on floppy discs--don't judge. The articles stayed on floppies until a few weeks ago. I found the discs but had no way of accessing the documents that were prisoner to floppies. The next logical step: take the discs in and have a CD burned.
"Yay, the articles and essays would be saved."
Don't speak too soon. Once on the CD, I tried to open the documents, and only half were in a compatible program. Google Drive came to the rescue for most of the other articles. The remaining orphaned records were also saved as hard copies in a folder that escaped the box. Salvation.
My father passed away in 2013 and Mom is still sorting through his files. Take your time Mom; keep sorting. How will we know what's in the box without looking?
Lessons learned: I no longer sling things into boxes to be forgotten; there are better ways to care for things that we treasure. Keep your treasures in a safe place. And most important, know what is in the box before you toss it.
Ignorance is not always bliss.
~ LowTide explorer, Carolyn Fjeran
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