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Cleaning Up

I was cleaning up my bathroom cabinets recently and thought of this Jane Hirshfield poem: 

MY MEMORY 

Like the small soaps and shampoos 
a traveler brings home 
then won’t use, 
you, memory, 
almost weightless 
this morning inside me.

There are several dozen of those small soaps and shampoos from my trips over the years. The ones I went on alone and wished I could have taken J with me because the place was kind of special even if I was only going there for work. There are those from trips we made together and memorable just because of that - almost does not matter where our travels took us, though some places have been spectacular. 

More recently, when I arrive somewhere I have never been, I find myself thinking its likely I will never return here another time. That thought creates a different weight and value for the things that remind me of that place. It could well be a piece of unused soap that I bring home in hopes that using it one day will reconnect me to a time past - a time of good memories. 

I was able to reduce my pile of half used shampoo and lotion bottles. The smells revived memories as they were meant to. Some I could not bring myself to throw away. I know I will never use them but they are meant to be discarded another time - it was not quite their time to go yet. 

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