Today, my magazine class and I are discussion an award-winning essay by Michael Donohue entitled “Russell and Mary.” These are my thoughts about keeping boxes of your things as remembrances.
Have you ever experienced one of those freaky moments where you ransack the bins you have in storage, the ones that house collections from your previous life, with previous friends and lovers, looking to see what you considered worthy of saving? There’s the high school box, the college box, the “when I was a small child” box, the wedding box, the “I had my first kid box,” all jammed into a room that houses items you know desperately need to be dissected, tossed, or burned. (Incidentally, the poor second child and any who come after that are lucky if they even get a box). Nevertheless, the room smells of nostalgia–the paper diploma, the old beer cans, a dried up corsage from some homecoming dance.
I know what nostalgia smells like, and it wasn’t quite smelling like old, yellowed papers, moldy containers, and dried dust. All I could do during my…
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