Treasure in the basement

People that follow me on Facebook have been teasing me about my posts for the past two weeks about working in our basement nearly everyday. Lots of speculation on what all must have been down there that it was taking so long to go through.

I have to admit after about a week of it that it was getting discouraging. I swore, no more pack rat.

People that work in radio normally move a lot, so it is best to kind of travel light. But I had been pretty lucky with my last two gigs. Five and six year runs, respectively. But even with that there were still boxes that had been moved that dated back as far as 20 years. I found airchecks of my old shows that were on reel to reel. Memos from old P.D.'s that dated back to my college days. And an unbelievable assortment of odds and ends.

So after about a week, I was ready to adopt a new philosophy. I decided that it might be a good idea to just toss the boxes without even looking in them. After all, if I had not missed it in ten years, or 15 or 20 years, how important could it really be?

And just when I decided that I would implement my plan I opened one more box. In it, among other things was a 20 plus year old letter handwritten to me from my Grandmother. She passed away seven years ago at the age of 99. She was a remarkable woman and to see her handwriting again brought forth a rush of memories.

Then I found a picture of my Dad and his High School Basketball team. And some family genealogy that he had given me many years ago. In another box I found some items that he had given me from his extensive collection of coal mining items. And some funny cartoons drawn by my Mother

And a sympathy card from my entire air staff at WOLX when a family member had died. And then there were boxes and boxes of pictures. Some happy, some sad. All ones that I was thrilled to see.

So needless to say, throwing the boxes away without looking would have been a horrible mistake. Sure, I might not have actually known what I tossed but I would have been deprived of so many memories.

It also left me thinking about my own legacy. Am I doing enough each day to make sure that when I am gone, that someone will come across some act of kindness, silliness, or just a good memory left behind by me?

The point being, some of the little things we do each day may seem insignificant at the time, but 20 years later when someone is cleaning out their basement, it might just make them laugh, cry or just pause with a smile.

I promised myself that I would try harder to remember to do those things, so that hopefully someday I will make someone's day like finding those things made mine.