We All Make Mistakes

Our home for 12 years had been a rustic and beautiful log cabin in the Black Hills of South Dakota.  It had a humongous storage area in the attic and we used it to store everything we didn’t use and yet wanted to keep.  There were all my babies special items in case I would have grandchildren, my 22 yard satin wedding dress in case either of my daughters wanted to use it for their wedding, my mother’s blond furniture from the 50’s and a standing ashtray, now an antique or good prop for the TV show Mad Men.  Since it had plenty of space, I also stored all the “need to keep seven years of business records.”

As our 12 years drew closer to an end, it was going to need to be cleaned out.  We took out the big things and made them part of a sale that we hired out and didn’t know what to do with all the boxes of paper.  Our smaller town did not have a shredding service and we could not possibly shred everything.

After checking around, we found there was a half-way house of recovering people who hired out for day labor.  We hired six men, bought and borrowed six shredders and set them up in a garage for a day of shredding.  We served lunch and snacks and told them to shred everything.

When we returned home, the job was done.  They reported in that it wasn’t hard except for the cloth. They found that the most difficult.  I forgot my wedding dress was still in a box in the attic.  They cut it in smaller pieces and managed to shred it.

It was my mistake. I could only say, “Thanks for your efforts.”

I was devastated until I told my girls who both told me — they wanted their own dress anyway.

We all make mistakes, so put it behind you.
L. M. Montgomery