how - or if - to store other people's memories
Somewhere on the internet there is a clip of Denzel Washington saying "You'll never see a U-Haul behind a hearse." Meaning, you can't take all your worldly possessions to the grave with you.
It's been almost five years since my mother died. If you think I'm a minimalist, she woulda been like "Hold my Fetzer." But we're still finding boxes and bins of things, in my brother's basement, that came out of a U-Haul post-funeral.
Like 30+ framed diplomas, awards, certificates, and other professional honors. And at least a hundred pounds of photo albums, dating back to before she was born. Because it's almost always the daughter's job to be the Family Archivist. I don't want that job.
A couple weeks ago, I posted a photo of some of her awards and diplomas on Instagram, and asked people what I should do with them. Several people said "digitize it!"
A friend with a daughter in middle school told me he is sentimental about family history, that he would save all those things because they would mean more to his kid than, say, digital photos.
He also lives in a really, really big house.
Denzel Washington probably has five really, really big houses full of stuff that won't accompany his hearse. Which is fine, because the Denzel Washington museum will take care of it. (If there isn't already a Denzel museum, there will be one someday.)
But what about the rest of us?
I've already taken many of Mom's awards, etc. out of their cheap frames and put them in archival plastic sleeves to save space. But what about her diplomas? Team Digitize It would have me take a picture of her PhD, then toss the PhD she worked so hard for in the gdmf trash.
I'm supposed to be married (and divorced) by now, with at least one daughter to dump all this shit on, so I can kick the decision can down the road to the next generation.
I'm not gonna do that to my niece.
And yet I can't bring myself to get rid of these useless pieces of paper that meant so much to my mother. The photos, of course, will have to be digitized. Someday. I could make it a 100-day project, but I know I'd never finish it.
So here's this week's question, for people who have buried one or both parents: What did YOU do with the U-Haul of stuff left behind? OK, two questions: HOW did you make those decisions? As always, you can reply directly to this email, and anything I share will be anonymous.
Links
That holy water I asked about last week is from Lourdes, France, apparently. (Wikipedia)
Why Platformer left Substack. I have so many stories like this one bookmarked, but one's enough. Interestingly, rather than engage in any kind of content moderation, Substack has recruited W. Kamau Bell to write for them. I love him, but I'll wait for the highlights on Instagram. (Platformer)
Invisible ink: At the CIA's Creative Writing Group. (The Paris Review)
"Doing geometry with a death machine." On what it's like going to trucking school. (Harpers)
"As it turns out, your sense of smell is a surprisingly good predictor of brain disease." This is incredible. (Wired)
What happened when an "ultrarunner" tried Taylor Swift's treadmill workout. (Outside)
An app that's supposed to help you avoid jetlag. (Timeshifter)
Beefcake Gravitas is my new band name. (NYT)
If anyone reading this lives in LA, or plans to visit, please don't go to some of these bars in West Hollywood. People are being roofied, probably by bartenders. (The 19th)
The Washington Post asked people to write down their feelings about race and identity using just six words. You can see what people wrote here. (The Race Card Project)
My new favorite podcast: I've Had It. It's two liberal GenX women in Oklahoma talking about the petty things they're fed up with and OH MY GOD I was laughing so hard I was wiping away tears. (Podcast site)
Economic headwinds narrowly avoid C-suite budget for 15th consecutive quarter. (Onion)
Anyone need a wedding ring? (Artemer Studio)