Tears in my eyes. Thank you. I want all the people to have someone look at me the way my mama looked at me, always with unconditional love and regard.
And the stuff...my mama had so much stuff, that was so meaningful to her. I still have way more of her stuff than I am happy about. But, like you, I also have LOTS of stuff of my own, and like you, no one who is going to want it. It is bitter. I am grateful for your reminder that in the Kingdom of God, I will not need (or want) it.
yes. I am with you with the stuff. So much 'stuff' - and it all means something to me.
My first prom dress - made by my mom. It still fits.
a framed poster of photo of a llama on Broadway in NYC taken by Inge Morath, that hung in my favorite diner when I lived in Manhattan. When I left, my boyfriend at the time haggled with the owner to buy that exact print, which hung above the booth we sat in all the time (he was not a good boyfriend, but he did this one very romantic thing...)
The glasses of a woman whose burial I did - I was the only attendee, per her wishes. She had no one else. She gave everything to the church. When she was cremated, her glasses were left, with no one to claim them. I still have them.
What do I do with all this stuff?
I want to give it away - not the things (I cherish them). The feelings of connection and love.
My mother-in-law has just moved into a retirement home and she had to leave so many things behind. And as it is, she has literally stuffed her small room full of things. She sets a store by her things, and they just won't fit. I am trying to learn to cull things down now, before it gets to be too much, and before my house begins to smell like old people's houses--that ripe, fruity smell. I used to think that smell was from the old people themselves, but now I think it's just the stuff, all the things they surround themselves with.
I hope that our artworks (many created by family and friends) will find a home in our children’s homes. There will probably be a gigantic book sale either by them or at our local library. I hope I’ll have a relative who will take over the genealogy. Being an Army brat, I have little or nothing from early childhood. Still, I need to work on Swedish Death Cleaning (the author of which just died).
I think we hang on to things because of the connections to people and places. The items themselves may not be of much financial value, but the memories they trigger are priceless. I've been intentional about being very cautious about adding more "stuff" to my life in my later years and gifting some of what I do have to the grandkids with notes about where it came from. I've weaned my collection of nativity scenes down from dozens to a few. I hope the people who received them will cherish them, but if they don't, they don't.
I need to stop adding stuff and I am getting rid of things, but unfortunately I’m still adding once in awhile… like we bought a couple of things at Ingebretsens when we were in Minneapolis last thanksgiving. I have this thing about Lucia’s…
Thanks Diane. I resonate with your sentiments. I have a stuffed Gray dog that used to be blue (probably made out of an old coat) that my grandma got me at the church bazaar when I was not yet a year. His face was stitched on and now you can’t see any of his features. They wanted me to name him sleepy as his eyes were shut but I insisted he was Gungy. To this day he sleeps on our bed between us. 💙
Tears in my eyes. Thank you. I want all the people to have someone look at me the way my mama looked at me, always with unconditional love and regard.
And the stuff...my mama had so much stuff, that was so meaningful to her. I still have way more of her stuff than I am happy about. But, like you, I also have LOTS of stuff of my own, and like you, no one who is going to want it. It is bitter. I am grateful for your reminder that in the Kingdom of God, I will not need (or want) it.
yes. I am with you with the stuff. So much 'stuff' - and it all means something to me.
My first prom dress - made by my mom. It still fits.
a framed poster of photo of a llama on Broadway in NYC taken by Inge Morath, that hung in my favorite diner when I lived in Manhattan. When I left, my boyfriend at the time haggled with the owner to buy that exact print, which hung above the booth we sat in all the time (he was not a good boyfriend, but he did this one very romantic thing...)
The glasses of a woman whose burial I did - I was the only attendee, per her wishes. She had no one else. She gave everything to the church. When she was cremated, her glasses were left, with no one to claim them. I still have them.
What do I do with all this stuff?
I want to give it away - not the things (I cherish them). The feelings of connection and love.
As the Quakers say, "This friend speaks my mind."
Thank you! This one took awhile to write…
It’s hard to let go. I always remember what Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch said about writing, “You have to murder your darlings.”
Didn’t Anne Lamott or someone quote that too?
My English professor said that often.
Everyone does, I think. I had a professor in seminary say that about sermons. She was right.
Our kids don’t want it. We all are in the same boat.
My mother-in-law has just moved into a retirement home and she had to leave so many things behind. And as it is, she has literally stuffed her small room full of things. She sets a store by her things, and they just won't fit. I am trying to learn to cull things down now, before it gets to be too much, and before my house begins to smell like old people's houses--that ripe, fruity smell. I used to think that smell was from the old people themselves, but now I think it's just the stuff, all the things they surround themselves with.
I hope that our artworks (many created by family and friends) will find a home in our children’s homes. There will probably be a gigantic book sale either by them or at our local library. I hope I’ll have a relative who will take over the genealogy. Being an Army brat, I have little or nothing from early childhood. Still, I need to work on Swedish Death Cleaning (the author of which just died).
She did? I have both of her books!
I think we hang on to things because of the connections to people and places. The items themselves may not be of much financial value, but the memories they trigger are priceless. I've been intentional about being very cautious about adding more "stuff" to my life in my later years and gifting some of what I do have to the grandkids with notes about where it came from. I've weaned my collection of nativity scenes down from dozens to a few. I hope the people who received them will cherish them, but if they don't, they don't.
I need to stop adding stuff and I am getting rid of things, but unfortunately I’m still adding once in awhile… like we bought a couple of things at Ingebretsens when we were in Minneapolis last thanksgiving. I have this thing about Lucia’s…
Thanks Diane. I resonate with your sentiments. I have a stuffed Gray dog that used to be blue (probably made out of an old coat) that my grandma got me at the church bazaar when I was not yet a year. His face was stitched on and now you can’t see any of his features. They wanted me to name him sleepy as his eyes were shut but I insisted he was Gungy. To this day he sleeps on our bed between us. 💙
As Jessie Buckley said at the Oscars …
““Go raibh maith agaibh, slán”
I guess the blessing we leave our adult children is to go through … the boxes? … the attic? And sift the things to keep and those to pass to others.
Not sure that was my message. Hoping to do some of that before. But going through the memories myself and leaving the love and connection to them
This is so beautiful. 🥲
Thank you!