Yesterday, my younger son applied himself to packing. He’s moving to his college dorm, and I’m moving to my far-away island home. Neither of my sons were ever very big acquirers, but 18 years is a long time and even with periodic purges there’s stuff that got put away in obscure corners and never re-evaluated. “I didn’t realize how much stuff I had!” Probably a common observation during a move, particularly for a family that has stayed relatively motionless. I’ve only moved once in his lifetime, only a short distance, and I was so busy at the time that I basically asked HA and the movers pack up everything without much consideration for its value.
It’s not just the (actually relatively small) quantity of stuff, though. There is So. Much. Nostalgia. The stuffed Minecraft creeper that was the object of much pranking and play. The many computers that he has used for his amazing projects starting at a young age (we were both astounded by realizing how many Raspberry Pi’s we had, online and off). Old school papers documenting struggles with subjects long passed. The electronic megaphones. Certainly not everything, but many things evoked strong memories for me as my youngest child heads into the world on his own.
—2p