The Big Dig

Young Sheridan: "I wish I could play Zigunerweisen." Don't we all, son. Don't we all. 

My day off from church is Thursday, and I’ve been trying hard to keep that as a writing day (especially this blog-a-thon month). But this past Thursday I woke up and surveyed the landscape of our bedroom and knew that it was time (past time, really) to clean. Not just the usual sweeping and dusting and changing sheets, but dealing with the plethora of boxes stacked up in there, containing Lord knows what. And so the Big Dig began.

We'd just waterproofed the basement, which somehow caused the boiler to break (but that’s a story for another post), which necessitated a ton of emptying that room of everything from furniture to records to toys. Ya-Jhu and Sheridan tackled this clean out project with a gusto I no longer possess, and soon everything was hauled upstairs. But where should it go from there? That was the question. A dumpster was rented and parked in the driveway, and was rapidly nearly filled with random junk, bags were prepped for donation, and books were sorted to be given to the library.

That was the easy part.

Thursday I had to tackle the flotsam and jetsam that remained--it was all must-save, but it did not have a logical new home. That included a jumble of memorabilia from years gone by: crayon drawings from the kids, letters and Christmas cards from loved ones, playbills and newspaper clippings and photos that had escaped from albums. What was intended as a morning’s project continued through the day and night.

Lest you think this was all accomplished with crisp efficiency, I can assure you, every item I unearthed triggered fond recollections, and sentimental journeys tend to take time. Though I knew our storage space in the house is infinitesimal, my trash bag had almost nothing in it after hours of work. There was the album of thank you notes from Julie’s 4^th grade class after I’d read a book aloud to them. Then there's the newsy letter from my sweet friend Kem, who was living in Russia a few years before her untimely death. Or the Christmas Wish Lists penned by my offspring in 2000 (their heart’s desires included a Santa Snoopy doll, Temple Owls women’s basketball tickets, and weightlifting equipment—not all for the same kid:-) Garbage? I think not!!

Anyway, it was eventually organized and labeled. As I write this, there is still a teetering tower of boxes in our room, but at least now we know what’s in them. Treasures, I tell you! And the next day, back at church, I did the exact same thing (clean and categorize). I’m on a roll!

Now that the Big Dig is finished, there’s only one thing left to do: resume the inevitable process of making a mess again. I realize that I Can’t Take It With Me through the Pearly Gates. But while there’s life, there’s clutter. And while there may not be room in the house for it all, there’s definitely room in my heart.

Boston's famous Big Dig project--I see a resemblance!