I went on a dusting spree this morning and was reminded of just what a packrat I really am. I save anything that has even the tiniest amount of sentimental value.

Some things are truly worth saving. I have a Russian tea set that was given to me by some Russian friends. I never use it, but it has a special place in a special case where it is protected and displayed at the same time. I also have a box full of old college textbooks in my closet. Not all of them, just the ones that I found particularly interesting or thought might be useful in the future. I never use those either, but someday I will have enough space that I will have them in a visible, easily accessible place. You never know when you might need to look up something that you know you learned in college, but didn't seem important enough to commit to long term memory.

Most of the things I have strewn about the house in an almost organized fashion are of no value to anyone but me. They are memory triggers that I can't get rid of for fear of losing that moment in my life forever. I have cds that I no longer listen to, but that bring back vivid memories of my childhood, especially my pre-teen and teen years. I have cheap trinkets that were given to me by former co-workers and former students. A casual trip through my house is actually a lengthy stroll down memory lane if done properly. Someday, in a fit of cleansing and renewal, I may get rid of many of these items. I wouldn't really mourn the loss of the things, just the memories that are connected to them.

There are a few special places in my house, however that contain odds and ends that I would be very sorry to lose. These things are so tied to the people, places and events they represent that I couldn't imagine being without them. I will never voluntarily give up the items that are stored in these shrines to my past. A peek at these revered items reveals much about me. Let's see what's on the dresser first...

*The large snowglobe with the Victorian santa figure inside was a gift from Santa himself one year. I think it must have been given to me right about the time I was realizing that my parents were the real Santa. At that time I realized that Santa, the person, is much less important than Santa, the feeling. I no longer believe in the jolly, fat man who climbs down our chimney, but I still passionately believe that the idea of Santa - giving and caring and sharing - is something that redeems the human race slightly every year.

*The ceder box still contains the pearl and the compass that were in it when it was given to me by my father. I'm afraid that I didn't recognize the significance of these items when I received them. These days, however, they show me every day just how much my father loves me. All my life he has been sharing what he has learned with me. Despite my stubborn need to ignore his advice and make my own mistakes, he continues to pass on his wisdom. And he has never once said "I told you so".

*The cedar box holds a bear claw shaped piece of turquoise that I got at my first powwow, a cheap tin clip from the Metropolitan Art Museum, a small bag of tiny shells and coral I collected on my honeymoon, and a ball with a floating spider picture in it (his name is Peter 'Pider and he always reminds me of my cousin).

*Hanging above the dresser are two important necklaces. The first is an emerald on a gold chain. The stone was given to me by my father, step-mother and grandmother when I graduated high school. The chain was given to me by my mother. (The original chain broke.) The second necklace has a rusted little bell - the kind you would find on the end of a jester's hat. This was another gift from Santa. That year at Christmas we read "The Polar Express" and Christmas morning we found these bells on the plate that had previously contained cookies and carrots. I wear that necklace every Christmas season to celebrate the fact that I can still hear the tinkling sound.

Okay. So those are some of the things on my dresser. I haven't even started on the shelf in the office, but now it's lunchtime and I am hungry. Besides too much of this at one time is overwhelming.