Candy Wrappers

When I was about nine, I started making a little money doing extra chores around the house. We never had an allowance so what I only had money for the extra things I would offer to do. I would earn two dollars for each side of the car I washed (if a sibling was helping, this made splitting the money easier). I could earn ten dollars for mowing the lawn, five for shoveling the snow from the driveway, fifty cents for taking the dog on a walk, and so on. I soon found out that with that money I could buy something I always wanted: to be the envy of my brothers and sisters.

Every now and then I would take whatever money I had earned, double tie my shoe laces and head up to the Dollar General. I would head straight to the candy aisle and go nuts. Twenty giant lemon heads, ten feet of bubble tape, three pounds of pixie stix and on and on the list would go. When all was paid for and I made the journey back home, the other kids in the family would swoon. Everybody wanted a taste. And I was happy to share as long as my ego was stroked for a minute or two.

What was left over after the feast of course was the pile of wrappers. A stack of paper and plastic picked and licked clean of the sweetness that it was once wrapped tightly around. The excitement had faded and the experience enjoyed in the moment but it was over and all we had to show for it was the time we shared and the heap of paper to remind us of it.

When one gets divorced you encounter an interesting dilemma. What do I do with all my pictures? That was my life. I was there and I lived it. Those were my experiences and my memories. So do I keep the remnants of the good times or throw away the tangible memories of the life I once shared with someone? Will I ever want to share them with anyone else and if so, why would I?

Do you keep the pile of wrappers to remind you of the sweetness you once tasted or do you simply look forward to the next opportunity to create more memories?