I am a collector, gatherer, keeper and what seems to be some kind of hoarder in remission. I keep (what some would call meaningless) things like receipts, ticket stubs, unwritten postcards (meant to be sent while on vacation, but never have been written and mailed, so now I have an album of blank postcards), ripped out pages of someone else’s magazine, wine labels (gingerly pulled off of an empty wine bottle at a restaurant table, because, “this was such a fun evening, I want something to remember it by”, invitations to events I never attended (but kept because I liked the stationary), wine corks from special occasions, maps of cities, boarding passes, and things like that.
Most of these “unnecessary” things end up in a scrapbook, a journal or The Shoebox. The Shoebox(es)! I can count 3 orange Nike (of whom my husband seems to be the official sponsor) shoeboxes, filled with these joyous collections. Every once in a while I will take time sorting through each to get rid of a thing or two. Two hours later, I have relived some wonderful memories and ultimately threw away some dried out rose petals and a token from Frankie’s Fun Park. Did someone say hoarder? Maybe, but at least I can fit mine in a shoe box tucked under the bed for no one to see but me. Granted, I may need a 4 bedroom house to have 4 beds to put these accumulating boxes of treasures under! I’m a hoarder that has everyone else’s best interests at heart – when I’m dead and gone, just pull out each box and throw it out – it has already been sorted and packed, trust me, you don’t need it! Although, admittedly I keep a few of these things for my future children to embrace the life I lived – the coffee I purchased on February 14th, the meal I ate on our 2nd anniversary, or the hundreds of movies I saw. People laugh, my husband being one of the loudest (don’t get me started on his drawer overflowing with ballpoint pens!), but I shit you not… who is the one handing me the movie ticket stubs, the airline serviette with a ring of red wine stained on it (this one’s a keeper, it has character!), or the coaster from the new bar we just visited. Yes, it is he, The Pen Collector – The Enabler! Shame, let me not be mean here. I know he only takes the time to do these things because he knows how much it warms my heart, and how he enjoys my response as if he had just presented me with a diamond ring.
So, who cares, maybe I am a boarder line hoarder! I have hopes to put these collections to use, to give them a home – in a scrapbook or even made into a memorable piece of art. But, those hopes have yet to be fulfilled. I’ll let you know if those orange Nike shoeboxes are every empty, then you will know I filled something else. As I said… HOPES!