Me, I'm not normally given to 'signs' or 'tugs' from the universe.
I sure don't discount their existence. It's just, that stuff happens to other folks.
Before anyone goes getting excited, I'm not talking about seeing long-deceased, line-dancing ancestors.
Instead, a mundane activity in which lots of us find ourselves unwilling participants: Deciding what family 'heirlooms' to save, what to release.
For a while now, I've felt it's time to purge.
Still, I was doing a pretty good job of ignoring our guest-room closet - whose contents challenge anyone to hang more than 1-2 articles of clothing.
Then, in the space of a few days came a proverbial 'kick' ... and another. Followed by another:
As is custom, the other morning I grabbed a random Unity cassette from the hodgepodge to 'pump me up' while preparing for the day. Titled Heirlooms, my former minister was speaking about those sometimes silly, inanimate objects we hang onto - which really have no value - except in our hearts. Her turning point came when a trusted friend sat alongside as she examined the contents of one box, then another. Each time the friend asked, "Does that mean anything to you?"
That evening an inspiring e-mail arrived, improbably titled, 'Learning to travel lighter.'
... and the morning after that? Both my go-to radio stations were playing something I didn't care for, so I hit the button for a frequency I used to enjoy. The hosts' were soliciting listener's feedback, asking, "What is something you will never get rid of?"
I don't know about you, but I'm probably holding onto lots of stuff out of some weird sense of obligation. I've already tossed some hundred matchbooks and swizzle sticks - keeping those whose logos still evoke a smile. They'll probably mean little to my granddaughters, but meanwhile they don't take up a lot of room.
Perhaps I should consider an Etsy shop like my blog buddy, Kim. Or Instagram akin to Martha's spot in the sun. You think?
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Candidates for the chopping block |
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I know this is long, but I'd really like to show you few of my favorite heirlooms.
No, this isn't my wine-glass!
I remember little from our 1957 European excursion, but do recall my father refusing to let the folks at StadtKeller ship his 3-liter glass boot.
Instead he carried it by hand throughout the rest of the tour, then across the Atlantic, and finally via Greyhound back to New Mexico.
Know what? Throughout all my moves, I've done the same.
Grandma Willer gifted a set of these to my parents for their wedding ...
then was enormously appalled when she discovered the 'nekked lady' engraved on each of the delicate glasses.
Once I turned 13 y/o, one of these
appeared alongside my own dinner plate each Sunday!
Silly old wooden bowl now sits atop my refrigerator,
but used to be the dedicated repository for S&H green stamps,
So, I've got to ask.
Besides photographs, what's something you will never, ever get rid of?
Hugs from (rainy) Phoenix!
Myra