My Top 3 is a weekly post where I countdown three things I love in a random category. This week, we’re looking at the three things I regret getting rid of.

Sure I love reading, calligraphy, and puzzles, but my favorite hobby is getting rid of stuff. Whether I’m donating or trashing, this is a part of adulting I adore. Give me a closet to clear out, a bookcase to weed, a storage container to pick through, and I’ll be a happy camper for hours. I want to reduce, simplify, and reorganize.

Twice a year, I give our entire home a once over. I pull old clothes, books we’ll never read, and kitchen items that are languishing to donate. If I only get a small box of stuff, I’m a little miffed at myself and go looking for more.

I adore making space and clearing off surfaces. But, three times in my life, I’ve found that there are items I want back. In the moment, it made sense for me to jettison these from life. Now, years later, I long to have them back.

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Oversized Notre Dame Hoodie

I have no idea where this sweater came from. It likely entered my life when we were visiting campus. My dad went to ND and my mom is from the area. I was born in South Bend. Cheering for Notre Dame is in my blood. At some point in my middle- or high-school years, I acquired a comically oversized gray ND hoodie. It was so big that it went down to my knees. You could have fit three people inside. This sweater would be perfect for the current trend of long hoodies and short shorts.

I lived in this sweater through my college years and several years thereafter. I loved that it was so voluminous it could act like a blanket. The hood could come down over my eyes and create a wonderful cocoon. The front pocket was so large it acted like a purse. It was the perfect piece of lounge wear.

About a decade ago, I lost a bunch of weight and decided that new me would wear tighter fitting lounge wear. (New me was silly.) I donated this sweater without a second thought. I’ve regretted it ever since. It was the perfect piece and I miss how comfortable I felt. Wearing it was the perfect mental signal that it was time to relax.

High School English Journal

When I was in High School, one of my English teachers (Hi, Ms. Bliss!) had us take part in weekly low-stakes writing. (A pedagogical concept I learned much later in life.) Each week, she asked us to write in a journal. We were only required to fill half a page and could write about anything.

Being one of those kids who liked to impress teachers, I almost always wrote several pages. I couldn’t tell you what I wrote about. (Except that one time I went on a rant about the proper way to hang toilet paper.) I didn’t write about personal things, but I know I shared my thoughts and opinions along with random highlights of my life. On top of writing, I did some collaging. I drew and pasted in pictures and other bits of interest. I journaled so much that I needed a second notebook.

I have NO idea what happened to these items. Somewhere between graduating high school and now, they disappeared. I don’t remember getting rid of them. I don’t remember giving them to someone to keep. I remember that the first notebook was spiral bound with a teal cover and grew about twice in size by the time I was done with it.

These were weekly records of my sophomore year and I long to flip through them once more. I want to know what I wrote about. I want to see the comments my teacher left. I wish I had the forethought to save and digitize these so I could peruse them again.

Childhood Pillow

I’m not certain this pillow was the first pillow I ever had, but it’s the only one I remember. It was a feather pillow - soft, squishy, and malleable. I slept with this pillow for so long that I could mold it into any shape I wanted. It was perfect to ball up for reading. I could shape it to hold my head at any angle. I could fold it in half for side sleeping. It was so smushy that I could easily pack it in a bag or suitcase for travel. And, yet, it somehow was supportive enough that I never felt like I was sleeping directly on the mattress.

It was my pillow and I glared at anyone who dared to use it. No one else should have used it because, to my knowledge, it was never washed. Yes, the pillowcase got clean, but the pillow itself… never.

After college, I decided I was an adult and bought myself a new pillow. I looked for the squishiest and softest version I could find in Target. It was still too solid for my liking. I figured that I could break in the new pillow and get something close to my childhood pillow - only much much cleaner.

So, stupidly, I chucked my pillow. Why did I do that? Every day since I’ve wanted my pillow back. I miss it. I miss it so much. No pillow has come close to it.

In the summer, I gravitate towards white wines. They are crisp and refreshing. Next week, we’re going to look at my top three favorite varieties.

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This post is a part of the free preview. My Top 3 will go behind a paywall on September 1, 2022.