This is a jar of water Rob captured from Mahoney Falls in Denali National Park Ketchikan, Alaska in 2005. This was the trip that drew a dividing line around our relationship: when he left, he was my guy-I-sort-of-liked-and-was-sort-of-taking to-but-not-really. When he returned and I first laid eyes on him after he was away, I knew he was my future husband.

He brought some of the waterfall back with him and we “sealed” it with masking tape; now there is a layer of algae at the bottom.

I’d have thrown it out ages ago because GROSS! but I can’t bring myself to. Every time we try, I get choked up and say, “Let’s hold onto it for a little bit longer” and we do. It’s bigger than all of that, too: I was never clear on if he was bringing it back for himself and wanted to show me, or if he was giving it to me. I never had to find out, either; it was arguably our first joint possession.

Now I’m slated to move it to our fourth home, one of the smallest yet, and it’s time to get rid of some stuff. A lot of things were no-brainers: couch that I never liked anyway: gone. Ugly bookshelf I bought out of desperation from some girl around the corner, OUT! I’ve become a pretty ruthless thrower-outer person*. But this is a tough one.

It’s not like I don’t have another memento of the trip, either; he also brought me back a cheap plastic snow globe which I broke almost immediately. (I have a thing: I break any and all snow globes. Seriously, don’t let me near your prized collection. If we go into a gift shop together, Rob sets up bright orange cones around the snow globe section and tells me it’s closed and I can’t touch them, because I WILL break one. I have no idea why.) I saved the now dry and snow-less base, showing a picture of a dog sled and, I think, a palm tree (???) and with a jagged plastic edge (because, yeah, I’m hard-core and break plastic snow globes). I’ll keep that. But moldy four-year old jar of water?

This is, by far, the weirdest thing I’ve ever been sentimental about.

*****

*What’s the word for anti-packrat? Because I can’t think of one, and there should be one. And also: I am aware this is shamelessly lazy writing, but I’m moving, so whatever. Bite me.