I am back in my parents house to empty their apartment. They moved away and I am in charge of sorting things out. From the first day I arrived, I dread to go to the basement and deal with the boxes buried underneath a mountain of useless furniture, paintings, old cloths, all kept “in case” one day we will need them. I don’t know what to expect to find in these boxes, but they will surely resuscitate much emotions. I am not sure what we have kept and what we have thrown away over the years. My approach is that if I have managed to live without certain things, then I don’t really need them anymore. I do not want to accumulate rubbish disguised in form of souvenirs. Among random objects, I find my first year school books, a barbie collection, and few dolls. A black baby doll catches my attention. I always remembered her as a sign that when I was a child, race was not an issue in Iran. We had black dolls and white dolls. My mom would always say: “She is like Z, her skin is dark”, and I loved her for that. Then there was a box full of doll cloths knitted by my grandma. I remember her sitting in her armchair and knitting on my command for the small doll, the ugly doll, the chubby one and the special one. I only kept the ones made for the special one. The rest went as donation. When I opened a small old suitcase, I saw the “special” doll laying quietly with a little smile on her face. I started to cry. I hugged her as if I had found my long lost friend. My beautiful orange-haired doll, my companion of dark days when we would all hide in the shelter during the war. She will stay with me until the end of my days.
In one of those boxes, I found few pictures thorn from magazines. A collection of “male” celebrities resuming my idols at the time: Sylvester Stallone, Bruce Willis, Jon Bon Jovi and Roberto Baggio. I would like to think that my taste has improved since, and yet finding these pictures made me smile.
Stallone, as Rocky Balboa, was my first ever childhood hero. My parents had given me a Betamax of Rocky II as a gift (yes!) and I had watched it maybe no less than hundred times. I must have been 6-7 at the time. My favorite scene was when his wife was in the hospital and tells him “Win”, after he had given up on fighting. I remember I would rewind this scene over and over again and watch it over and over again. “Win“, I loved this word. Just afterwards the famous music would start and he would tarin himself to win! If one day I resume my shrink sessions I should probably talk about this.
Then came Bruce Willis. I had a crush on him in Moonlighting. I was looking to find a boyfriend like him; funny and handsome. I still am looking.
Job Bon Jovi came later. I would make my mom sit and watch their concerts with me over and over again. I knew by heart his life story (and that of the rest of the group), his engagements, the name of his kids, etc. My dream was to attend their concert and when that finally happened, it was magic.
Roberto Baggio was the little Italian that caught my heart during 1994 World Cup. I was all alone against my friends and my dad who were cheering for Brazil during the final game. I cried all night long when he missed his penalty kick and the next day bought my first ever book to learn Italian entitled: “Voglio parlare Italiano”. Twenty something years later, I am still learning.
By finding these little objects I go through a crash course of my past. I put most of these objects in the trash bin and keep only few with me, the most important ones. I can not keep a lot of things and I do not want to. It is a funny feeling to get rid of things so rapidly and without having much time to think. I am all the time afraid that I got rid of more things that I should have, but then again people loose their whole lives under bombs these days, I can really not complain about my life.