the things we keep
Every so often I feel the irresistible urge to purge. Not in the way that some people do a cleanse for dietary purposes. I purge my belongings. I have to! I find myself amassing things at an alarming rate. Some of my recent acquisitions come from inheritances from my mother or my aunt. This has gotten me thinking about the things we keep. Since we all leave this world empty-handed, I’ve begun wondering what will happen to all these possessions after I am gone.
I recently found that my son and his wife had taken a picture off the wall in the bedroom where they stayed in our summer cottage. I found it in the closet after they had gone. That’s fine. We all have different tastes in art—maybe this squatty French horn player actually creeped them out. When I look at him with an objective eye, he is a weird little fellow.
But I never look at him objectively, because he’s been part of my life for as long as I can remember. So, I thought that before I’m dead and gone I should probably describe my attachment to him. My mother began collecting antique frames as a newlywed over 70 years ago. I grew up with this wee musician in my home from the earliest days of my childhood, watching me practice the piano and supervising as my family decorated the Christmas tree. I have a nostalgic affection for him. I’d hate to see him scrapped or put in some pile of things to be dropped off at Goodwill. At least, I hope my heirs will find out if he or the frame has some value first. Maybe they don’t. Perhaps it is only of real value to me, and there will be something else that my kids and grandkids will treasure fondly. We hold affections for unlikely things.
In the meantime, I cull and clean and give away the things that I do not care about, because there will be plenty for our children to sift through as it is. Why leave things behind that do not matter to me, particularly things that have been relegated to boxes and attics and garages for years?
And, Lord, help me not to accumulate more!
Love, Liz
P.S. Next I’m purging all the baby paraphernalia: two cribs, bouncers, playmats. We are at last through the cycle of grandbabies. My friend Carole has already claimed one crib. Ah! I feel lighter already.
