It’s a storage area but it’s also a time capsule and a time machine
There are people that will tell you that places don’t hold memories, that they’re stored in your head and in your heart, always with you.
It is true that we carry memories with us, but it’s also true that a place, an object, a song, or even a smell can act as a time machine, transporting us back to a time and place that we had thought was lost to the sands of time.
This happens when I return to my hometown or the city I called home for fifteen years or my alma maters, but it also happens much more frequently in my own home. One of the lesser talked about holiday traditions is actually retrieving all of the decorations that have been in storage since the prior year and every year
My wife is an elementary school teacher, so the house gets decorated for nearly every holiday. If it were up to me, once you’re inside you wouldn’t be able to tell if it was Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, or the Fourth of July. Of course, opposites attract, so she decorates for all of those as well as Halloween, Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, and others. Sadly, she doesn’t yet celebrate National Cleavage Day, but I’m still hopeful.
I’m the one with OCD, but my wife is meticulous and exact when it comes to storing decorations. Everything is kept in large bins and color coordinated based on the holiday — red and green for Christmas; black and orange for Halloween; brighter colors for Easter; etc.
I’ll often stumble upon items I hadn’t thought about in years: baby playmats; tiny clothes; that missing doll accessory that nearly caused a nationwide manhunt (dollhunt?). Virtually every time I’m pulling out decorations, I can be heard shouting exclamations like, “Oh shit!” and “I remember this!” from the recesses of the attic.
The attic is a storage area, but it’s also a time capsule.
It’s not unusual for me to get distracted by an item that will take me back several years. It’s often wistfully nostalgic, but not always — there are times when I’ll see something and my thought will be: she begged and harangued for this for months and played it for about twelve seconds.
Still, most memories are happy. Seeing those things randomly does remind me of the way things were; how life was harder in some ways, easier in others, and that, most of all, no amount of planning and preparation can prepare you for what will happen.
Most of all, it once again reinforces the fact that time moves faster as you get older and those random memories in the attic are beautiful pieces of your life as you once knew it.
Christopher Pierznik is the worst-selling author of nine books. His work has appeared on XXL, Cuepoint, Business Insider, The Cauldron, Fatherly, Hip Hop Golden Age, and many more. Find more of his writing at Medium and connect on Facebook. Please feel free to get in touch at CPierznik99@gmail.com.
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