In October of 2002, I discovered that the friendly neighborhood moths became tired of the cold and decided to move into a more cozy abode...my room. At the news of the infestation, my mom had someone come in and promptly throw everything I own into boxes, toss in a few mothballs and duck tape the boxes shut. After this, I was left with a completely (and I mean completely) empty room and an unhealthy but very warranted moth phobia. It took me seven years to finally get the boxes out of the attic and go through them, one by one. The experience was incredible. It was a mix between a time machine and a treasure hunt. The boxes were haphazardly labelled with titles like "bed," "loft," and "closet." Until I opened the box, I had no idea what I would find. Normally when I pack something a lot of debate goes into whether the item will be deemed worthy enough to be packed preciously away until I needed it again. This however, was soooo not organized. My life had been frozen in time. Every note, every toy, every picture, paper, trash, candy, book, doll, treasure...everything, was in one of these boxes. One by one I opened them and poured over their contents, meeting my twelve year old self all over again. I found myself in the things I thought were worth keeping. These mere objects symbolized my imagination and innovation that I let die a long time ago. Every item had a use, a purpose, a symbolic meaning to me. I "ooohed" and "aaahed" over the toys that I had missed, things I thought I had lost forever. I was transported back to who I was seven years ago, a simpler me who spent hours playing with her toy horses, days setting up playmobile towns and a lifetime being a mother to her precious dolls. Everything I did was so intricate and planned out. My dolls each had their own biography, complete with favorite color, animal, activity, you name it; it was there. When I played school, my "daughters" took spelling tests, math tests, art class, history, and bible. All of their miniature notebooks were there, spelling words misspelled in their shaky handwriting and corrections in my lovely red handwriting. Each doll had a personality and a miniature bedroom to match it. Their mother, me, had a different name for each stage of my life and their "father" was whoever my current crush was at that time. :P I don't know how long I must have had the last name Bass...
My thoughts varied so much going through those boxes. I was overjoyed by finding all of the things that I loved...but I'm not that girl anymore. I moved on, I grew up. It makes me almost angry that I can't be her anymore. I loved that life, I loved who I was. I was imaginative, I was creative, I had a life within myself that no one knew about and no one could share with me. I was so happy to be me and to spend time on my own making my own little world. These toys speak of a different time in my life, one that I feel was cut off to drastically when I had to pack it into boxes. Literally over night I was done with dolls, with toy horses, with barbies and beanie babies. I look at them now and I love them as much as I did the last time I saw them but they have no place in my life anymore. Why not? Why can't they? Why can't I be who I used to be and sit on my floor and dress my dolls for hours? I don't know. That delicate girl has crawled deeper inside my heart the older I've gotten, protecting herself from the older me who must face reality and move on and be "mature," whatever that means. After all these years, I connected once again with the me that I know so well, the free spirited, creative, tender hearted girl who wasn't afraid to be herself. I don't want to box her away again, pushing her out of sight so I can become someone else. I want to embrace who I used to be, no...who I still am, and let my imagination run rampant.
I hope beyond a hope that some day I'll have a daughter who I can share all of my beloved dolls and horses with. I hope that she knows how much they meant to me but most importantly takes them for her own and I can watch her get as much enjoyment out of them as I once did. :)
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