When I started this blog, someone gave me the advice to say whatever I wanted. I promised myself I wouldn't just "put it all out there" and "admit to strangers" what my family and friends are all too familiar with. Here I go, breaking that promise.
One of the most frequent questions I hear, in my world, is "What difference does it make?" Every time I get all OCD, worry or cry over something, the question gets asked, again, and is usually followed with, "Why do you let it upset you?"
This question is raised on many different aspects of my life, below is just one.
I am frugal and a saver, by nature. I am also a very sentimental person. When my beloved memories began to disappear, or, I should say started becoming hard to retrieve, I began saving "things". Things were my way to pry the memories out of my failing brain. It may not give me a complete memory, might be just a glimpse, but I'll take what I can get. (The saving of things has gotten more out of control than I care to admit)
Becoming orphaned 13 years ago, when my parents died 3 weeks apart, took a toll on me. I don't have many "things" of theirs, but what I do have, I cherish.
Coming across a card signed by my Mom... who for many years before her death was unable to write, and eventually unable to walk, talk or move on her own... that means something to ME.
Cards signed by my Dad, when my Mom could no longer do it... that means something to ME.
Furniture and mementos, inherited down through the years, from family no longer living... that means something to ME.
When I get upset and cry because someone in the family is trying to get rid of an item belonging to a person I cherished that is no longer living and I can't make room for anymore "things"... please don't ask me "What difference does it make? (In the grand scheme of things, probably none) "Why do you let it upset you?" (If I had a choice, do you think I would choose to be upset?)
"My house may be crowded... my memories are not."
12 comments:
Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes!!!! I think you were right when you asked if we might be related. I believe we actually just might be.
My house is a tidal wave of stuff that I cannot part with. They are my last links to the people I love. My house is clean and orderly but filled with MY stuff and until the day I die, that is the way it shall stay.
My sisters are always on me to get rid of all this "junk".
MY house. MY stuff. If you don't like it, go to YOUR house. :-)
Marla, it means a lot that someone understands! My daughter has promised me, when I die, she will clear out my "things". In return, I have promised not to haunt her for doing so. I hope I can keep that promise.
Some people may say that the memory is in your head, not in the item, but to me, the item sure helps bring the memories back. When a loved one dies, I usually keep one or two things to remember them by. For example, I have a cheap little 1776 keychain bauble but it was my great-grandma's, and every time I see it, I think of her.
Kristy, it certainly does!
hugs hugs hugs
My momma died about 5 1/2 years ago and recently, going through all my recipes, I found one that she had written for me on a recipe card. Means the world to me.
Deborah, I have one too!
My friend Brian and i used to write notes back and forth in Junior High and High School. I saved those notes - I do not know why.
He died at age 25, of muscular dystrophy and I simply treasure them now. I wouldn't remember all fo the funny stuff if it wasn't for those notes.
I save things too (not in a hoarder way)but it toally helps with bringing back memories. We can't remember it all for heaven's sake!!!
I am sorry that your family has that attitude, but I hope the blog help you to see that others are on your side!
I wrote a post way back in October "Saving the Squishy Jammies" I bet you would like it.
Girl, I shall go and find it! Thanks for the support.
You know this is a family trait that you came by honestly.
Anonymous, I know who you are... (I won't tell anyone) no, I won't delete it... AND, you are rrr... rrrri... you are correct. That was harder than I thought.
You will NEVER get an argument from me on how important those little "things" are. I, for one, get rather postal when someone suggests I should feel or think in a different way. They might as well say "the way you are inconveniences me...I need you to change." Well, pppffftttt on that!
My memories are failing me. Without my "things" I fear I would lose what's left.
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