Yesterday, as commenters were discussing reading to children, I discovered my daughter’s old copies of Goodnight Moon, The Runaway Bunny, Corduroy, Tasha Tudor’s 1 is One and others, plus the “activities book” I bought her at a fair when she was a baby.
In a few weeks, my mother will leave the house where she’s lived for 40 years — we’ve already sold it — and move to assisted living near me and my sister. We need to make room to store things for her, so we’ve been de-cluttering.
Three of our four children have papers, books, photos, posters, CDs, clothing and “unwanted stuffed animals” (three boxes) in our house and garage. We’ve been sorting things into garbage, recycling, giveaway and need-to-keep piles, finding missing treasures and getting rid of our own excess junk. Yesterday, I donated seven Styrofoam coolers to RAFT, which collects supplies for teachers. All the junk electronics is going too.
It’s not easy. I decided to throw out my brother’s things, mostly videotapes from his work at a cable TV station in Guam. He died 15 years ago at the age of 42 of cardiac arrythmia. The children’s books were under a file of his bills.
I keep my old children’s books in my office; I’ve added Allison’s. Perhaps I can read A Pocket for Corduroy to the grandkids, four and two years old, who will be visiting soon. They leave the day my mother arrives.
If I seem a bit distracted, that’s why.