Emotional storage

Yesterday was J.'s and my 33rd anniversary. That seems like kind of a big number. To celebrate we went to a local community theater production of a play called Leading Ladies. It was funny and enjoyable and just the right way to celebrate. We then went to grab a bite to eat, so it made a very late night. 

There are a lot of memories from 33+ years together. (Here is my seque to my actual topic.) And sometimes when there are so many memories, it's easy to forget some of them until something triggers one. There is a great episode of Frasier that revolves around a rather ugly candlestick that no one actually likes. But as each person faces the decision to get rid of it, they remember things events that they wouldn't have thought of except for the visual image of the candlestick. In the end, they still don't like it, but they also can't give it away.

Which is why, as I was sorting through all the stuff that had come out of the big van and deciding what to move to the smaller one a nearly used up pad of Mad Libs made the move. To the small van, that is,  and not the recycling. That pad was slowly filled over the course of many long car trips, always accompanied with great laughter. Car trips comprise some of our family's fondest memories and no one would even consider the idea of the pad not staying in the car. 

I was listening to a fiber related podcast this week, and in the course of discussion the idea of emotional storage came up. In context, it was related to a person's yarn stash, but it seemed so relevant to what people needed to be moved into the new van. Because of the memories and emotions some items were associated with, they had become somewhat bigger than just an object. I found it an interesting idea to think about.

And in a somewhat related note, if you travel with children and/or teens, a pad of Mad Libs in the car can be extremely useful. They are silly and fun and can often turn the mood in a vehicle on a much more positive trajectory rather quickly.