I had forgotten how moving opens up the door to walk down memory lane. Each box has something that holds a memory. Since we had a moving company pack for us, I was often surprised by what I would find unpacking. I found treasures the kids had made me in school, sweet cards from friends, pictures that never made it into an album, my high school sweater and every receipt, napkin and ticket stub from our honeymoon and after. Fond memories that I hope to keep forever, though probably don't need to keep every gum wrapper to every stick of gum I've chewed. More recently, I have discovered, though always knew this to be true, that sounds and smells open up those memory flood gates as well. For example, I cannot listen to Bob Segar without it taking me back into my Volkswagen bug driving around Norco at the all knowing age of 17. Or Boz Scaggs puts me on the boat at Lake Havasu. Reba McEntires "This Christmas" takes me to Granite Bay where I began seeking the really meani