Treasures of My Ten-Year-Old Self

The summer I turned ten years old, my family moved from metropolitan Southern California to a small town in Arizona without stoplights. We left our large three-story home that was a mere fifteen minute drive from the beach in exchange for a well-house and fifth-wheel trailer on fourteen acres. Shockingly (note the sarcasm) most of our belongings ended up in storage. The funny thing is that none of us would have guessed how long our personal items would be locked up in storage. The answer? Thirty years.

My mom has been steadily working her way through boxes that haven’t seen the light of day in decades. When she found some boxes containing items that could only have been mine (my two sisters and I have always had very different personalities), she brought them to me. In a way, it was almost like Christmas (oddly enough, it was Christmas Eve).

It’s strange how you can go decades without accessing certain memories and then once you come across a specific item, you remember exactly where you were when you saw it, what the room looked like, or who gave it to you.

The best part of the treasure was the two boxes that contained my collection of Pound Puppies and Pound Purries (and assorted accessories). My forty-one year-old self was instantly transported to my old bedroom that I shared with one of my sisters. I had a trundle-bed (you know, with knobs that could be twisted on and off, like in the movie “Bedknobs and Broomsticks”) with a white comforter covered in very tiny flowers. All of my pound puppies (there were probably a few dozen, but so far I’ve found sixteen) were stacked pyramid-style at the foot of my bed. Some had dresses and diapers. Some even had outfits my grandmother had crocheted especially for them. I don’t remember how I acquired so many, I just knew that I had loved those Pound Puppies (and Purries) and those emotions came flooding back to me. I felt how much I loved my grandmother who had made some of those outfits, who has since passed away. I remember she used to wear Estee Lauder perfume, her hands were always soft, and she gave the best hugs.

I found a ceramic name plate that a friend had made for me. I even recognized the box it came in and knew its contents were special. I found my Cabbage Patch Doll (Renata Ellen) in a blue dress (because blue is my favorite color and wearing red socks because I thought she needed socks). I myself am almost never barefoot. I also found a stuffed “Elliot” dragon from Disney’s “Pete’s Dragon” and even a leopard-shawl that I wore all the time. I also found a small address book with the “Newport Stripes” cigarette branding (my parents owned a 7-11 so we occasionally got some random swag). Inside? A few phone numbers that are probably disconnected by now and school pictures of me, my sister, and one of the boys I used to have a crush on. I even found the Valentine’s Day box I made in school and, ironically, an essay assignment I wrote entitled “My Possessions.” 

But wait, there’s more! Like some very random items…I found an old cardboard pencil box, a “Tiny Golden Book” (as in a 2” x 3” book of “The Fox and The Hound”), and miscellaneous business cards (I used to collect business cards and brochures – don’t ask me, I have no idea why). There were also a few “Book It” pins, hotel shampoo bottles and soaps (yes, I was a bit of a klepto), a miniature porcelain vase, an empty perfume bottle, a paper Honeycomb (yes, the cereal) Pictionary game, a big blue book entitled “The Complete Dog Book,” an old piggy bank (there was money in it, but my mom took it out and forgot to bring it with her), and countless other indiscriminate items that I know I liked for one completely weird reason or another and therefore kept safe with my other treasures.

Luckily, my mom went through some of the contents and did not bring any bugs that might have been tempted to make new homes out of my old crap. However, since most of the lost treasure has been buried, it also smells like thirty-year-old dust. I really can’t wait to wash and sanitize everything – everything that I plan on keeping, anyway – but I need to make sure I’m not going to ruin anything, specifically my precious Pound Puppies. I’m sure my mom will find other boxes of toys and, well, let’s face it, junk, but I wouldn’t be at all disappointed to receive another few minutes of time travel, courtesy of my ten-year-old self.