Making room for memories

Boxing Day (Dec. 26 to Americans) has so many emotions. I'm sure for millions of kids around the world, a kind-of depression sets in. That's not surprising. They've been geared up for so long for Dec. 25 that the day after has to be some sort of let down. For our household, it was a day of rest. Christmas was busier than normal for us with the addition of a church service and we had some folks over for brunch afterward. Add the opening of gifts before church and a trek down to my sister-in-law's later in the day and we were glad to sit in our mess yesterday. To a point. I was a little more willing than my wife was and last night while I was watching a DVD of "The Sopranos," she was busy throwing out boxes and straightening up.

Another emotion that may come up is guilt or at least a sense of uneasiness. Christmas brings more things into our lives, most of which, if we're honest with ourselves, aren't needed. For example, I got a brand-new coffee maker that does everything except file my taxes. It's a pretty slick machine, but then we have to find a place for our old, simple coffee maker, which still works, but doesn't have all the gadgets that the new one does. As we search for more space, two things may go through our minds: 1. We need a bigger house or 2. We have way too much stuff. I'm guessing most Americans choose option #1.

In addition to our things, though, Anne (my wife) had to make room for some conflicting memories. She gave our daughter the doll house she played with as a little girl and it's an impressive structure, quite large with many rooms and appliances (this family has no problem finding room for their stuff). We had to figure out a way to put in our daughter's room which meant spending time doing some major rearranging. But I think Anne had a little difficulty truly giving it up. I can understand that. She spent hours playing with these dolls and now she has to let our daughter use them, maybe break them, maybe lose some pieces. In addition, there are the memories of her mother infused in every little room in the house. Those memories are rife with joy (spending wonderful times with her mother) and pain (realizing she's no longer here). Those are the hardest ones, perhaps, to come to terms with. It's much harder making room for these than an old coffee maker.