Time to re-register in Organization 101

One of the coolest gifts I received for Christmas was a copy of a column I wrote 25 years ago.

My sister, bless her heart, who is indeed the family pack rat, has struggled over the years to keep track of my columns and saved, saved, saved and saved some more, managing in the course of my writing career to keep many of them.

I love her for it. I am so grateful that we have in our family a keeper of history. Someone who cares enough to save the black and white evidence of what went on before, shining moments, faded and shrouded with time, reminding us our memories are more than just illusions and dreams of what went on before.

This particular column, which she had stumbled upon quite accidentally, she laminated so I wouldn’t lose it quite as easily as I usually lose ‘things’ that I put somewhere where they seem to immediately disappear into the land of lost things.

The column was written in 1986.

I read it and immediately the laughter and the tears got all mixed up in my head because it seemed like I was reading about someone else; someone I knew once a long time ago. This person had three kids and a dog and lived in a house where the radio blared and the phone rang constantly.

This person was a working mom, who lived by the rules of a working mom; school lunches, homework, supper, laundry, dishes and bed. And tomorrow: ditto!

I kept reading, feeling somewhat like I was being visited by the ghost of Christmas past as I travelled back in time to another place.

In my column I talk about finally making the huge decision to trade in my Mixmaster for a computer and go back to work.

I laugh.

And I talk about the fact that I have decided the only way to get my kids to listen to me is to learn to ring like a telephone.

I laugh again.

And I talk about organization.

“You gotta be organized,” I said. “That is the key.”

This time I groan.

Twenty-five years ago I was writing about being organized and how important it was.

Today, as we take the first step of the journey into 2012, I look at my first new year’s resolution written across the blank, white page of a crisp new notebook, “This year I will work on my organizational skills daily.”

I groan again. And I realize I have been in denial all these years.

I ain’t never gonna get organized. It just ain’t gonna happen. I need to accept that fact and move on.

I give the column one more cursory glance before slipping it behind the glass of the china cabinet, where it will probably stay for an undefined length of time. I smile ruefully at my friend who is in my kitchen helping me prepare lunch for guests who will be arriving shortly, and thank him for listening.

I had read it to him. The column. And now he, too, would know that I have been taking ‘Organization 101’ for at least 25 years and still haven’t graduated.

But, he only smiled and said nothing which I think is always a wise move.

And I, with only slight prompting from the voice of authority that lives inside my head, made the decision that I would cross off that particular new year’s resolution as an exercise in futility.

And I will!

As soon as I find that notebook where I jotted down such a foolish thing.