Destroyer of History

My job today was cleaning out the old files from our Distance Education Media server. I had no idea deleting old files could make me so sad. There were a lot of useless documents. Word docs and spreadsheets full of data that is long since out dated. There were podcasts and videos made in 2007, two years before I was even working here. I made backups for those, just in case. I doubt they will ever be used though. Then there were the pictures. They say a picture is worth a thousand words and right now I understand the sentiment. Pictures...

There was an old staff picture back before I joined Distance Ed. My old boss was there, one of the instructors who I remembered in my college and then seminary courses, the admin assistant who I ended up replacing. It was... haunting. It was old data though and served no purpose so I deleted it.

Then there were the advertisements. Old advertisements for courses we don't offer any more. It took me back to my first year here since the people on the front of those advertisements were friends I made in 2004 as a bright eyed determined freshman right out of high school. I miss those people. It also took me back to when I first started working for Distance Ed, with Charles showing me the ropes and seeing these pictures then, thinking how they took me back to when I was a bright eyed determined freshman right out of high school... It was a better sweet double remembering. But these were old data and served no purpose so I deleted them...

Then there were the unfinished projects. Calvin worked hard on these. He was a gifted artist and web designer. So many graphics and preparatory work for projects that never saw the light of day. They were ahead of there time. They envisioned what we are doing now ten years ago when it was not possible. What thought and work went into these things? What hope did Charles and Calvin have for them? But these were old data and served no purpose so I deleted them...

The mix of memory and emotion is difficult to describe.

The sun was always shining back then. I have no memory of winter, every day was summer and full of good things.

I remember the opening scene of the Phantom of the Opera, an auction sale for a small toy monkey with a pair of symbols. As the now aged protagonist holds it with a look of pain and curiosity the Phantom's voice echoes in his head.

"A collectors piece indeed,

exactly as she said...

will you still play when all the rest of us are dead?"

Memories from long ago, magical.
Now banished by my hand.

I step outside my office and the hallway seems darker than before.

May the ghosts of my past lie in peace.