Paper

I hit a wall this weekend. My cull, sort and destroy project was temporarily side tracked as I took time off to enjoy a Grey's Anatomy Marathon Weekend.

I was halfway into my second day of losing myself to television drama when I told myself I had to do at least ONE thing. So I did.

What started out as digging out the second cool file folder storage box resulted in vacuuming the basement and deciding what documents I could shred.

The end result was this:

Two empty (plus a third one full of documents to shred) file folder sized boxes

and numerous emptied document organizers/folders ...

... plus one gigantic box of shredding (and more where that came from).

I have a paper shredder which is perfect for my personal needs but if I overwork it, I'll be in need of a new shredder. So I may be shredding documents for the duration of the year. 

I have not yet hit the bottom of this bottomless pit of paper collection. I have dabbled in photographs, memorabilia, cards and all kinds of paraphernalia. And I am no where near complete. 

This is the state of our living room at the moment:

One would think this would get easier as I go along. But I keep finding excuses to hold on to some of what I have.

I wondered how much I earned at my very first job. I knew Dad would have deducted it off what he could claim for me as a dependent that year, so I went to Dad's tax papers and found my answer. I earned $1875 my first year of employment back in 1977. I know I could find many more answers I may wonder over the years in Mom's calendars.

Do I really need to know I can get my hands on this information? There is comfort in knowing I have a piece of history only Mom and Dad would have the answers for. This feels like a warm hug on a cold day.

I suspect as I work my way through the excess, I may become less attached to the paper. I spent one entire weekend shredding Mom's papers after she died. I did it once. I can do it again.

I cannot believe it has come to this. This mountain of paper, photographs and memories is overwhelming. 

One step at a time, one weekend at a time for as long as it takes to rid our living room of Rubbermaid storage containers. Where there is a will, there is a way. The "way" may include hiring a company to do my personal shredding. 

I'm a collector of family history, stories and memories. This is so very hard because there is a small piece of history hidden within all that has accumulated. I must believe I've mined for the gold and be willing to let the rest go.

It is no wonder I have put this off for so long.