I've stopped to blog as I just threw out 2 old map books. One was local, from 2004 (from when I moved to the area I presume) and one was Toronto, 2001. The Toronto book was a hard one to throw away. I flipped through the pages, what was paper-clipped for quick/frequent access and memories and emotions flooded me. A first name and phone number on a piece of paper (whom I can't remember now). How can we feel apprehension discarding an inanimate object? It's so stupid; but I've had a lot of emotional ties to that book. It took me a lot of places to a lot of people. I felt a sense of dread as I threw it out. Panic. What was I doing? (After taking the spiral out and discarding half in recycling) I questioned if I was I doing the right thing. Maybe I should hang onto it? Maybe I wasn't ready to let go of those memories just yet.
I threw the remaining pages in the recycling, shut the lid on the container and walked away.