Looking Back

I have OCD thoughts from time to time.

Every day, actually, as I have to do certain things at certain times, and then every once in a while, I’ll get stuck in a loop of sorts.

I had an idea to clean out some of the closets and drawers, and file cabinets.

There are just two of us here, and there’s a lot of accumulated junk.

I went through the boys closets last week, and our garbage tote was full.

My closet was calling to me, and I knew that most of what I had to sort through was two huge plastic totes where I stuffed everything.

I pulled one of the totes down to the couch area, and as I watched ‘Modern Family’ I went back in time.

One of the first things I pulled was a card that my new college friends - Rosie, Gag and Bob - made me for my 18th birthday.

I was away from home for the first time ever on my birthday, and I was a little down-hearted.

My friends placed a photo of a beautiful woman on a piece of construction paper:

“This is Edith.”

When I opened the card there was a badly drawn birthday cake.

“This is your cake.”

The third page noted:

“You can have your cake and Edith too.”

I remember how I felt and that I laughed a little too hard when they gave it to me, and I’ve saved it for 43 years.

I couldn’t toss it.

I read through the program from my senior prom. A letter from a girl I had fallen for in college, and then every Father’s Day card.

There was a letter that Jake wrote to us for a school assignment when he was in the 3rd grade.

Then the photos!

Good Lord, the photos of the children when they were young.

Photos from our wedding.

A letter from my Dad, and another from Jeff.

I also sorted through some of the letters I received that praised one of my books or another.

A beautiful letter from Jill and Jim Kelly after “Counting On A Miracle.”

It all went back into the box, along with all the journals that recapped every day of my life back to the 4th grade.

Almost everything was saved again.

“I can’t throw this stuff out,” I told Kathy.

I thought about why I would keep it.

Do my kids want to sort through it a few decades from now?

Probably not.

Yet, I sorted enough to calm the circular OCD thought pattern.

Maybe I’ll toss more stuff next time.

Perhaps the kids will just have a bonfire and wonder:

“Why’d this dude write down everything?”