Sue Morrow: Sidetracked by a trip down memory lane

It was with a degree of shock and dismay that I came to the realization that I am a hoarder. Not the type you see on television with floor-to-ceiling piles of "stuff." Thank God. But bad enough to have spent days clearing out a spare room and den.

The activity was necessitated because of an unprecedented visit from my son, big brother and my twin brother who resides in Colorado.

What originally was intended as a spare bedroom had become a storage receptacle, and as such was barely accessible. It was there I planned to have my twin brother sleep, deciding our big brother should have the guest bedroom. My son always prefers to sleep on the chaise lounge in the patio during warm weather. But, I needed the den couch for him to place his luggage.

Addressing the den first, I carried into the living room a 3-foot stack of newspapers containing columns I had written. I began to pull the columns from the rest of the pages, which were consigned to the recycle bin. That would have been easy, except I found myself re-reading the columns, and a task that should have taken an hour stretched into many hours.

Dictionaries and other books and loose file folders were moved into my bedroom. Voila, the den was ready.

The spare room was another matter. While it contains a bed, dresser and desk, it also housed Christmas decorations and old holiday cards, more books, a couple of file folder carts and dozens of boxes of memorabilia. I took the boxes of memorabilia into the living room to sort through. That's where the hangup occurred. Who can resist a quick peek into containers bearing photos and other material chronicling one's younger years and family? Certainly not moi. There's no such thing as a quick peek when one embarks on a trip down memory lane.

I found a box of horse show ribbons I had won, and examined each one. In other boxes I found dozens of pictures of my parents and us children, and examined each one, becoming teary-eyed at the images of my long-departed mom and dad and recalling the love and happiness they had given me.

Some of the photos contained dogs we had owned, and I smiled inwardly at the memory at what remarkable and loyal companions they had been. Some of the boxes contained some items I consigned to the trash can. But most were replaced in the cardboard cartons and carried in to my bedroom.

The visit with my family has ended, and now I will remove everything from my bedroom and put it back. Call me a hoarder, but it was an incredible walk down memory lane.

Sue Morrow is a longtime journalist and member of the Nevada Newspaper Hall of Fame. She may be reached at soozymorrow@yahoo.com.