Just Stuff On the Shelf

I cleaned out the trunks yesterday. I’ll drop the trunks and the bulk of the stuff in them at the Goodwill later today. In my youth, I collected small dog and Precious Moment figures. As I went through the boxes, I realized that to me, it was just stuff, I’ve been hauling them around and storing them for years. These little figures had no memories attached, they didn’t connect me specifically to any one point in my life.

I saved one of the dogs. She’s not the prettiest, or the best made of the bunch. She’s the very first one. Grams encouraged me to pick a figure off of that stained 1x shelf. There were a number of small bronze animals, I chose the little dog pretending to sleep. Unlike the other figures in the collection, I chose that piece for myself. For a few moments, I was permitted to want something and encouraged to speak up about it.

The dogs make me think of all the things I’ve disappointed Mom with by not wanting. The house I grew up in had it’s fair share of stuff that used to be owned by one relative or another. Pipes, watches, bottles, and furniture all owned and some made by people I never knew. I’ve been asked numerous times if I wanted any of it. For the most part, I’ve declined.

I’ve claimed three pieces. The rocking chair I love, a beautiful chest of drawers and this all wall hanging of Grandma B’s. Those three pieces, along with a child’s roll top desk (scarred by me), a blanket and a box will remain touchstones to the past. Little reminders of where I’ve been, enough to keep a connection to the past but not overwhelm the present.

Comments

[Angie]

I'm glad you're posting again!

[kmsqrd]

Thanks Angie!!