A Cell Phone Call to Memory Lane

Did you know that you can take your old cell phones and donate them to people who could really use them, like soldiers in the military and poor people? Well you can and we are. Whoever is in charge of this process made it really easy for us to do--you just stick your old phones in this little plastic bag they provide and drop it in the mail, apparently. Pretty cool, huh?

The only thing that is a little trickier about it is that you should probably go into your cell phone and delete any incriminating or embarrassing messages, photos or video. So today I did just that.

It was truly a technologically advanced moment similar to the old fashioned "Go through my old momento box" experience of the olden days. I laughed, I cried, I reminisced. I came out on the other end feeling like I had just re-lived and said goodbye to an entire chapter of my life. It was not without its difficulties. Pressing "delete" to so many awesome photos was really tough. But I have no idea how to take these photos from the tiny cell phone to the computer without having phone service to that particular device. And I am not interested in researching how.

So instead of holding on, I decided to let go.

I let go of the only photos I have of my amazing family vacation in Maui, the last time my family vacationed together before my father passed away. Beautiful sunsets, me in a lei, whales surfacing and blowing water up in the air on our whale watching trip...so many images that were great to revisit and hard to let go of. There was a picture of my Dad and my nephew sleeping in one of the bedrooms of the condo we rented. That picture was particularly difficult to delete. My father looked so peaceful. I could almost hear the tropical birds outside the window that day. He liked to complain about their squawking but then he would go lay in that bedroom and listen to them all day. He was fascinated by them just as he was by all nature's oddities. The picture captured my father perfectly, and letting go of that image was a struggle. I found a way to press delete and move on.

I let go of all of the pictures from my very first road trip to New England for Thanksgiving with Adam, Jon and Dan--a tradition that was started so long ago and has been repeated almost every year since. None of the trips we have took since then have been as magical as that first one. I have pictures of myself looking out the windows eagerly, taking in all of the new scenery I had never seen before. Looking back, it was all pretty boring and covered in snow for the most part. But to me at that time, it was so unique and beautiful. I saw the Berkshires and the Mass turnpike that I had heard James Taylor sing about so many times. I saw new types of trees and the city of Boston. Even passing by Cleveland, Ohio on the way there seemed romantic and exciting. Ah, innocence!

I deleted the pictures of Adam and I at Plymouth Rock, the one of me riding a whale statue in a New Hampshire park, and even the one of Adam's sleeping face smashed into his pillow on the long car ride back to Chicago. That was the picture that came up when he called me for so many years. And now it is all erased.

I let go of all the pictures I have of my road trip to Detroit with Sara and Jen. The insane visit to the scariest Midwestern Christmas Store in the middle of the summer, taking the tiny metro train around Detroit's crumbling downtown, the random art festival we stumbled across complete with crazy costumed revelers parading around with giant heads. I will never see Detroit the same as the general populous does due to my experience visiting with an actual native. Sara showed me how awesome D-town could be. All those pictures were deleted ruefully.

I let go of lots of pictures from when Adam and I first started dating. Wide-eyed and drunk with new love, we documented St Patrick's parade revelry, many a New Year's eve celebration, and even some winter nights by the fire in his old apartment. These images were the seedlings that led us to where we are now--planning our future together. They were special times and I deleted them all after taking a moment to appreciate those times once again.

Deleting the text messages was almost as emotionally draining as deleting the pictures. I had a whole file of old texts that were exchanged when my fiance and I had a brief and devastating breakup that lasted maybe a week. It was about a year and a half into our relationship. During that week of misery, in an attempt not to speak to each other, we texted some of the most heartfelt things we have ever shared with each other. No wonder the old me decided to make a file and keep them all. There were words of love, remorse, and confusion. There was talk of shattered worlds, sleepless nights, and cloudy-headed days. We came out on the other side of that "blip" stronger and more in love than ever, but going through those texts brought back all the hurt and sadness we went through. Deleting those texts felt good. A purging of sorts. A release. Those old feelings are long gone and deleting the texts only reinforced that once again.

I was unable to delete the phone numbers off the phone due to it requiring a password that I never recall setting up. So I am hoping the military or whoever will figure out how to wipe the numbers themselves. Otherwise, I am apologizing now to all of you whose contact info may be in that old phone. If you get any prank calls from soldiers or homeless people, I am sorry. My bad.

I realize that I write about memories a lot. And this post is no exception. It is not that I wish I could go back. Or that I want to re-live my glory days or something. Honestly, I consider myself a story teller by nature. I love hearing elaborately told stories about interesting experiences and I enjoy sharing my own. It connects me to myself and others in an intimate way that I appreciate.

Also, I must admit that I am secretly terrified of forgetting it all. Alzheimers may take me over one day, and I would like to remember and enjoy the moments that make up my existence while I still can. May we all continue to do that well into the twilight of our lives.

Ok enough reminiscing. Time to go play Super Mario Brothers for Wii.