memorials, memories, and moving on

For my first blog entry I want to write about what has been occupying most of my time at work the past several weeks. But I'm not sure about revealing certain facts about it, and I'm not sure how much I can write without revealing certain facts. But here goes...

Over the past year my office has been collecting gifts, tributes, and trinkets in memory of a tragic event. We've been storing these items, and now that a year has passed since the event we've been processing the items to distribute them in a variety of ways: to the people for whom they were intended, to an archive, to storage for later collection, to charities, and, when nothing else can be done with it, to a respectful disposal process.

So my days have been spent boxing up items. It is said that as an archivist, the only way to survive such collection & sorting is to not read anything. But I'm not an archivist. I'm not sure *what* to call me, but I couldn't keep from reading, looking, touching, smelling, really examining some of the items that we've collected. Therefore, I've gotten to know aspects of this tragedy in ways that are unique, and I treasure that exposure. And today, we finally had all the items moved to their respective locations where they will be stored, recycled, redistributed, or respectfully disposed of.

And our storage units are empty, swept clean as if they never held 10,000 cranes, or teddy bears, or signed jerseys, or cards, or bracelets, or any of the tens of thousands of items that we collected. And although these things are now properly distributed, the cause of their collection remains like a rough scar on otherwise flawless skin.

When my sister died two years ago, I had no idea of the process of grief. Well-meaning people say things like "it takes time;" "time will heal your wounds;" "you'll get over it with time." But now I know that there are some things you never get over, you never get through, you never get used to - you just learn how to pick up the weight and carry it with you through the rest of your life.

So goes my first post: vague, but meaningful to me and those who know me.