GETTING CARRIED AWAY

For the last 42 years, this little piece of (I suppose) 1950s luggage has been without work. It's been an outbuilding or attic accessory. But of course that's not why I've kept it. It's stayed with me because every time I see it, it reminds me of good times for the 20 years prior to these past 42.

This was the little traveling case into which I used to pack my nightie, toothbrush, hair brush and later makeup, along with a simple change of clothes for the next day. It was my overnighter to friends' or relatives' houses. 

What it really was, I do believe, was the cosmetics' case in a luggage set. My folks had one or maybe two larger pieces that matched and I have no idea where they are now. I don't even know if they purchased the set or if was handed down from relatives who bought it for, say, a trip to Florida, or for some destination I'll never know about.

I was always a kid who liked to go, to have plans! I can't count the Friday-night sleepovers at my friend Cheryl's house. In elementary school we watched The Brady Bunch, then played with our Barbies until we couldn't change another outfit, and were about to drop over ourselves.

Everywhere I went in those golden days of youth, if I was staying, so was this travel bag. Tells you something about traveling light--one thing you'll never catch me doing now. Even if Brian and I are heading down to Indy or Carmel to see one of the kids, nine times out of 10, he's waiting for me to round up a stack of paperwork, a book I'm reading, a lesson I'm working on, a magazine, a Tervis full of iced water and maybe some other oddball object.

The travel case used to have a very distinct scent; the smell of fun! It no longer carries that; only memories. And that's why it's time to say goodbye. Now don't go and make this harder on me by saying what I could use it for, or store in it, or Pinterest it up, or learn to travel light and use it again.
 
You see, what I'm doing here is cleaning out our attic, one tub or box at a time, week by week. Brian and I found the idea of a one-day clean sweep of the place far too overwhelming. So instead, I told him about my idea to do it one container a week.

Today is week four. Last week my old prom dresses went. A friend wondered if I would give them to her for fabric to make doll clothes. Nope! They are far too faded and unfashionable. I parted with an old pair of my dad's work coveralls and another dear friend suggested I rescue them and use the fabric to craft a stuffed bear as an heirloom. Nope! I'd just fold the things back up, attach the idea to them mentally and --never do it.

I just need to say farewell to this sweet little memory companion. Now I've got the picture, and even the blog post. I still save many things. I just no longer want to save it all! I've reached a tipping point where there's more joy in the getting rid of than in the saving (and stacking, and putting away, and caring for or not caring for ...).

I'll carry it away one last time to the Goodwill.

​Happy travels.