Skip to main content

My Address Book

I need a new address book (the inside front cover says November 2004), but I wonder if it would be disrespectful to replace this one with a new one.
Names, phone numbers (from those who still own landlines), and addresses with zip codes would be lost.  Some folks still accept letters and thank you’s and invitations, and I do not trust listing everything on my smart phone.  One accident and everything would be erased. I would not feel too smart.   
Where would I keep the thousand (it seems like a thousand) of user names and their updated passwords and the security questions (where I lied about favorite vacations spots, first pets, and maiden name that do not exist, at least not in this lifetime)?
Sure section “G-H” needs additional pages (maybe I will make note to use “X-Y-Z” since I only have two or three entries in that section). All those scratched out entries document the many travels and the many places my children (whose last name starts with H) and HoneyBunch’s sons (whose last name starts with G) have lived. Arrows point east to west, north to south, just like their lives have done until recently.
Other entries are scratched out because businesses no longer exist, doctors closed their practices, and dear ones have departed this life. My Dad and all of his siblings and their spouses are gone.  Too many of my dear friends are widows now but I have kept their husbands’ names tucked next to theirs. Time has pared down friendships and only the true blue are left.  Newer entries take their place: doctors specializing in all the major organs of my body, hotline numbers to Medicare and Aetna and AARP, and a growing list of birthdates and clothing sizes for grandchildren.
Some entries are embarrassing confessionals.  I have joined Weight Watchers Online six times in the last eleven years and Defensive Driving twice.  Some are sad reminders of the past.  I have my old online info for Borders and Kobo, and for several online military supply stores (the three times my son was deployed, our government did not purchase all of his necessary equipment, so I did). Some are reminders of another life – the name and phone number of my divorce lawyer, the code for the alarm system from my old home, and the names of my kids’ best friends and their parents’ phone numbers when they were teenagers in case they didn’t come home in time for curfew (probably none of these are current).
Should I buy a replacement address book (do they still make them?)?  Would it be callous of me to forget the past? Would it be disrespectful of me not to keep my Dad’s name as a reminder that he lived and that I loved him with all my heart under the “M-N” section?
What if I need the history list of my eleven passwords for my Gmail one day?   


Popular posts from this blog

Finding My Muse

1)Because my muse has a wicked sense of humor and visits me at odd times and in inconvenient places, I have learned to record inspirations/ideas immediately before I forget them or they dissolve into nothing. I carry small notebooks, own a digital recorder, and have been known to text messages home. I will scribble on anything – old napkins I find in my glove compartment or old receipts. I even pop out of bed in the middle of the night to jot things on sticky pads. 2)Calendars are great places to find topics. I use important dates, seasons, and upcoming holidays to plan blog posts. I can also go back into my work calendar to refresh my memory about meetings, conferences, or books I have read that might be worth sharing with others.   3)I will sit with a good cup of coffee, pen and paper ready, and read the newspaper searching for topics, interesting characters, or modern trends.  News channels and other newsfeeds are just as good.   4)I love to read the TV and movie guides for titles and…

The Girl Who Eats Canned Spinach

I went to a Catholic elementary school run by strict Belgian nuns, and we could not leave the cafeteria until we ate everything served on our food tray. Once a week, they served warmed, canned spinach with our meal. The spinach tasted nothing like the way my grandmother made it, but I ate it. I gulped it down in three or four bites and it amazed my table mates. I told them we ate it at home so I was used to the taste. Now, my real problem began the day I ate the spinach off my friends’ trays so we could go play outside. As soon as the nun monitoring the cafeteria turned her back, my friends ate something off my tray I didn’t want, and I ate their serving of spinach. I only did it for two of my table mates, but the word spread. On the next Spinach Day, kids followed me to my table.I was suddenly very popular, and as soon as the nun marched off to the other end of the cafeteria, my friends and an army of others who only knew me as The Girl Who Eats Spinach, begged me to take their servin…

Facing My Fear of Guns

With the ownership of firearms comes responsibility, so I had asked HoneyBunch several times to teach me how to shoot and to help me get my License to Carry. I got my wish two weeks ago. HB and I signed up to take a LTC class. He bought me a gun, one similar to his, that would be the type we needed to show shooting proficiency, and for one whole week he tried to get me to become familiar with it, but I was hesitant. I read the booklet that came with the gun. I practiced loading and shooting it in what is called dry shooting (no bullets), and since the flyer said I would have to shoot thirty shots at different distances, I finally tried with it loaded. I was a nervous wreck. The class of twelve turned out to be close to forty people. We were of all ages, colors, and genders, and I was glad I wasn’t the only woman my age. The shooting test came first, and we were separated into two groups. Those who were proficient (or thought they were) would shoot first, and those who were novices wou…