Now that I have a house of my own, my parents are trying to get rid of all my stuff they've saved over the years. School papers, photos, toys, books—even after multiple moves, they've kept even more than I'd thought. There are quite the time capsules saved in their basement.
There are several photo albums, mostly blurry shots of unknown subjects taken by me, but some pictures of me and the family through the years.
They also saved a bunch of my toys, thinking that some day my children will want to play with 25-year-old action figures.
They also seem to have saved every school paper from third grade, and quite a few from other years all through high school. Here's a book we all got at our eight-grade graduation.
And this should earn me major credibility from my Latin students.
And not only did they save my letterman's jacket, but it still fits. I can finally prove to my students that I was a varsity athlete.
I don't really hope to fill my new basement with this detritus from my life, but I did take pictures of some of it so I could still have the memories. (And my wife does want to save some of the toys for our future children.)