Via @bryanjack on twitter, I found myself reading Andrea’s blog post about endings and old vs new – and it raised more thoughts than would fit in a comment…
I got thinking about how often I assign meaning, memories and emotions to a thing, or a place, or a song or smell? Why do I hold onto things as a way to remember people?
My Dad died seven years ago now and shortly after that, my Mom moved to a much smaller house that was more manageable. As a result, my brothers and I all chose some items of furniture or such that we wanted.
I chose an old, green rocking chair that reminded me of my Dad. I remember that it sat next to the old, black, dial telephone on Dad’s desk. I remember sitting in that chair while Dad worked at his desk – paying bills, doing taxes, filing paperwork. I remember my Dad sitting in that chair, quietly reading a book and gently rocking back and forth.
Before my Dad died, I remember my husband’s grandparents passing away (within six months of each other) – and the resulting process of dispersing their worldly goods. Somehow, all of their “stuff” had go to new homes – their furniture, dishes, nic-nacs, jewelry, clothing, half-finished quilts, knitting needles, cutting boards, etc… It wasn’t always easy either! What to do when several people had memories and attachments to the same items?
And more recently, I’ve been thinking deeply about the life I want to live, and the stress that “stuff” can create as we have to keep it clean and put away. Having less “stuff” makes my live less stressful and more enjoyable.
So why do I hold on to that old green chair?
It’s a physical reminder of my Dad – the person that he was, the memories of being near him, the relationship that we had…
And yet, those memories don’t reside within the chair. That’s just a reminder, just a prompt. Those memories can never disappear, even if the chair is gone.
I’ve thought a lot about how to keep memories alive without these kinds of reminders. Sometimes it’s a photograph. Sometimes it’s the little things I say to my own children that I remember from my Dad. Sometimes it’s a passing thought.
But what’s most clear to me is that my memories don’t reside within the things around me – they’re part of me and who I am. I like that I don’t have to clutter my life with “stuff” in order to hold onto parts of who I am or what I care about. I’m grateful that I’ve learned to focus on what’s really important to me – all of the “stuff” I need is already inside of me.
And I hope that my children will learn, as a result, that material things aren’t what’s really important!
This is a very touching post. Unlike you, though, I think a physical article is a lovely way to remember someone by along with those inner memories. Both my Mum and Dad are alive, but many years ago, Dad bought me a skirt from Nepal and I won’t throw it away for a couple of reasons.
Firstly, it is a reminder of the trips I have done with my Dad (one of them being in Nepal) and I was impressed at his choice of clothing. Secondly, it will one day be a special memento when he is no longer here. Of course I am aware that a skirt is easier to store than a lovely chair
There are other items that my brother and I have spoken to Dad about that we want to hold onto. The same with Mum and likewise Mum has some things of her Mother’s to hold onto as a fond memory once Gran has gone.
The pic of you and your Dad is so beautiful and thanks for sharing it. Very special.
Heidi, your family is a great example of when children have educated, socially engaged, and active parents. I wish to express my sincere appreciation for your important advocacy!