recovering treasures

before the internet and iphones, there were newspapers and scotch tape.

before PDF attachments and even copy or fax machines, there were envelopes and postage stamps.

like her brother (my grandfather), she saved everything. though considering her life of 95 years now fits in an 8’ x 8’ x 10’ storage room, perhaps she only held on to the little things. cancelled checks. wal-mart receipts. newspaper clippings. car repair guides.

arranging the sewing notions in my new used sewing cabinet, i came across items of another form, another time even. my dad warned me that when he, mom and sissy packed up my great aunt’s belongings, the rushed manner didn’t allow for precise categorization. so even though i came into possession of some great accessories for my new sewing machine, i first had to wade through some other gems.

i found numerous letter-sized envelopes meticulously labeled with their respective contents. one was labeled “flowers/house plants,” and in it, my aunt had clipped out newspaper snippets on how to care for plants. after further inspection (not that the yellowed edges and discolored scotch tape didn’t already give it away), i found a date: august 1965. for 40 years, my aunt clung to short articles on how to care for poinsettias once christmas had passed.

two of my favorites: one envelope tagged “Wal-Mart Clamdigger $8.84” contained merely the receipt from wal-mart where her clamdiggers were apparently purchased (admittedly, i had to look up clamdiggers since i hadn’t the foggiest idea what they were). then another envelope had written detailed info on an RCA VCR she bought for some $50. its contents? another handwritten slip of paper with the warranty address and contact info.

besides the envelopes, i recovered two of her stenographer pads from the days when she was learning shorthand, circa 1934. in near mint condition.

there was a fair share of catholic digests and reader’s digests (one with aaron neville on the cover), a book about the devil’s final battle, and even a book about fraud against senior citizens.

one particular newspaper article i ran across had “send back” inscribed at the header. i inferred that perhaps a friend of hers sent her the article to look over, take some notes, and then mail back. (my aunt spent a great amount of time in nashville, tennessee, having moved to o’fallon, illinois when i was probably in grade school. it wouldn’t have been uncommon for her to communicate with her friends from afar via “snail mail.”)

all this rummaging through items that clearly didn’t belong to 2008 got my ever-processing brain thinking further:

• sustainability. the mere preciousness of simple possessions to people then dictated a time of not wasting and do-it-yourself long before the “green” movement had taken a superficial hold on the majority of the population.

• endearment. though i’m a huge proponent of the digital age, there are charming elements of holding onto the physical form of memories. i should know since i held on to my own for so long. not 70+ years, but long enough to realize that i didn’t want family members to be sifting through my milk crates of high school love letters and other embarrassing ephemera of my youth. (and other selfish reasons like not wanting to pack it all up again during another move.)

• simplicity. have we forgotten the ease of handwriting a recipe or taping an article to our refrigerator for safe-keeping? i’ve clearly announced that i hate paper and paper waste, but there’s something nice about the immediacy of a note taped to your wall as opposed to doing a search in an email application for a PDF attachment.

• tangibility. to feel a yellow newspaper article between the fingers, to see the decaying, brittle scotch tape fall onto the floor. what’s the equivalent? a pile of floppy disks? a stack of CDs? a dead hard drive? it all seems so clunky and metallic and far less romantic in comparison.

• invaluable information. despite access to information being limited “back in the day,” that which was made available was all the more priceless.

• and maybe, just maybe, we’re trying to process too much too often. desensitization. overload. period.

(for more photos of my findings, feel free to browse my photostream on flickr.)

29 June 2008