My 13-year-old daughter had been asking me to get out a box of memorabilia from my high school years. Mainly she wanted to read the stories I told her I had written as a teenager, though I let her know they were pitiful. I tended to take favorite parts of books I’d read and combine them into weirdly configured stories that I usually wrote several chapters of, but rarely finished.
On Saturday, I finally braved the storage closet and pulled out the box. After lifting layer after layer of stuff from the box, I discovered a few things.
- Those overdone hairstyles of the ’80’s? Yeah, my yearbooks were full of them. Let’s hope they never come back.
- My parents spent a lot of money on me. From senior pictures to a class ring to that high school trip to Washington, D.C., they managed to find the funds – making many sacrifices along the way, I’m sure. Thank you, Mom and Dad.
- My husband wrote some amazing love letters! Yes, we dated in the years before e-mail, texting, and cell phones, so I’m blessed to have a stack of pages-long letters from our college years. Makes me wonder if mine will be the last generation to unearth those handwritten treasures.
- There are some tragedies we never forget. I saved a newspaper from the day the Challenger Space Shuttle exploded; I was a junior in high school. It was also the occasion for one of my favorite speeches from perhaps my favorite president, Ronald Reagan.
- This poem, jotted down by my dad on a small sheet of paper, but remembered from his own dad, made my girls laugh.
- Your perspective on life in high school and the one you’ve developed 25 years later are worlds apart.
And, yes, my stories really were as bad as I remembered them!