I surround myself with stuff. I look around and I have more stuff than I could possibly ever need. I am sure that I could put my hands on 11 ink pens,3 hammers, 5 flashlights (without batteries of course), 30 magazines that have the most interesting articles and I won’t even begin to count my books. I also have at least 20 watches! It’s all about time.
I could part with all the above except for the books. It seems as though my life always takes me back to a book. I look at a title and I remember the first time I read it and then I sometimes pick it up again in hopes of catching that same memory or thought.
I have recently given away more T-shirts than the local Dollar General carries in stock. I kept one from 1986! It is not just a T-shirt; it is a reminder of the first time I ran a Turkey Trot!
I have a box full of old VCR movies that I could probably sell, but when I think about parting with them I’m reminded of the Christmas Holidays when the Home Alone series was played over and over. But it’s not just stuff. It’s the reminder of the memories that keeps me from parting with my stuff.
No one who truly knows me would ever tell you that I’m materialistic; stuff is not what drives me. I just collect it.
I recall when my grandmother died – my mother was already deceased. My grandmother was my heart; my aunts asked me if there was a little something I would like of hers as they were loading up their treasures. I said if it was ok that I would like one of her cast iron skillets as she had always cooked for us – other than that I had no need for her stuff. I had all the memories that I would treasure forever. I still have the skillet and I think of her daily. She is still my heart. They got the stuff and I have the memories.
There was another time I’m reminded of stuff! I was in Charleston for Hurricane Hugo. After a very long and terrifying night of watching the water rock in the bathtub and praying for the morning it finally came. My last phone call before communication was lost that night was with one of my brothers and he was certain I was doomed. He didn’t know whether to be mad at me for being stuck there due to my Military commitment or to be sad that I really might not make it out. After we crawled out of the apartment at daylight someone walked by and said the bad news was that my brand new car was totaled. I said it was just stuff – it was definitely more important to be alive that morning surrounded by downed pine trees, rubble, no electricity and no water. A vehicle is just stuff. It was eventually replaced but I never gave it another thought.
My photos are reminders of good times, tough times and sad times. They are not just stuff. They are reminders of other times.
I know I have too much stuff but I like it! I’m not sure how I can possibly get all of my IMPORTANT stuff into a Tiny House so this eventually might present a problem.
For now I will continue to keep my priorities straight; whoever needs my stuff can have it but they can never take away my memories that are forever etched in my heart.