on cleaning house

We are, once again, cleaning house. This involves (among other things) sorting through the piles of paper that build up, deciding what to keep and what to shred. It is amazing what builds up if you don't systematically sort and discard - such as statements from banks that no longer exist. This is like looking back through your own life, one receipt at a time.

I was digging through the back end of a file drawer and found a folder of papers from my father's time in the Army (I consider my packrat tendencies to be a thing of honor, inherited from my father). I found his Army medical examination report from 1942, when he was 30 years old. He had low blood pressure, like I do, which is remarkable because he smoked three packs a day until he quit, "cold turkey," after I was born. He had 20/200 vision, like I did (before it got worse). His vision disqualified him from serving in what the Army calls the "combat arms" branches - just like me. He was 5 feet 8 inches tall and weighed 137 pounds. I was taller than him when I came back from Boy Scout camp at the age of 14. This is the sort of thing that prevents you from cleaning house - you get caught up in the details of what you are reading and go "off task." So, I put the papers back where I found them, to be sorted through on a day when I have nothing else to do, which might be this time next year.