Stories that swirl
And whisper tales of now and long ago
Hello friend,
Stuff. Stacks. Shuffles.
What stays? Does anyone else even want this stuff?
January has a way of reminding me that I own a lot, a lot, of stuff. My stuff. My mother’s, my grandmother’s, my dad’s, my husband’s mother’s, grandmother’s, and dad’s. That doesn’t begin to include treasures from my childhood. After 54 years of marriage, there is also our stuff.
All this took on a different meaning as I watched the terrifying scenes from Los Angeles. My heart broke as I watched a widow rummage through the charred remains searching, hoping to find her wedding ring—one small but irreplaceable reminder of a life lived.
I looked around. What if that were me, and everything, absolutely everything, was gone in a matter of minutes?
My dear friend and I often consider the stuff we will someday leave behind. She shared a new approach to all her belongings that begins with taking a photograph and then writing down why she has chosen to keep this object. Every item has a story, a memory, a whisper into a moment in time.
Brilliant.
A couple of weeks earlier, I purchased a pink Cherry Blossom depression glass butter dish. I didn’t need a butter dish, but I have pieces of my grandmother’s dishes in the same pattern.
When I saw it I remembered the mound of butter sitting in the same dish. I could see the fat floating to the top of the milk pitcher. The rhythm of the small butter churn followed my heartbeat, consistent, determined, ever steady.
I began to think about the pieces I keep, and my wise friend reminded me that each has a story. The story of me, my family, our traditions, our values.
Those objects and memories, their stories do more. They carry us and the generations to come into a new future rooted in the richness of family and community.
If I lost it all? It’s still stuff, but the story is life, and that cannot be snuffed out by fire or floods.
A photograph and a flashback of coal-black hair and blue eyes.
The story we tell with our stuff.
A few musical memories: Barbra Streisand Memory, Maroon 5 Memories, and Elvis Memories.
“…memories I kept safe so that I could roll them around my mind.”
—Katherine May, Enchantment
If you would like to read more from me, visit my website. I’ll be waiting for you there.
With gratitude,
Kathryn
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I am so with you on the memories and “stuff” we have. Been trying very hard to donate atleast two boxes a month to a charity! At the rate I am going it will be years before I have reduced my footprint of “stuff”😊