Emotion is so powerful, and is such an important part of feeling alive. Life would be flat without it. So disparaging it as "sentiment" is destructive .
My memory is triggered by the sight of things...and thus I really have trouble for example putting certain clothes from earlier times now long unworn into the Salvation army bin. Once that particular shirt or scarf or whatever is gone I won't have the reminder of a person or event that that it gives me. I love time travel, and things as well as smells and tastes, can be such powerful transporters across time and space.
Your Mother's jug and bowl are irreplaceable for you. My feeling is that with special things such as these, you should keep them and part with something else that has less meaning and is replaceable.
I love these posts. Even though I'm just a wee bit younger than you, they mean the world to me. I am quite attached to certain things such as the canvas paintings that my older daughter created when she was age 11. They're beautiful, and I display them openly on one wall of my tiny living room. They were gifts from her to me, full of striking reds and purples in the shapes of women and flowers. Long before I had children I determined that my home would be filled with items that I made myself; thereby, reflecting me mainly through textiles - a deep love of mine. That intention has continued with the art my children have made. Both girls are musical and visual artists, their days occupied by the care of children or tending to the needs of others through their jobs. I have recently felt the pain of having not pursued a life of music, always post-poning, not believing that, one day, I won't be here. I recently attended a performance by the Montreal Symphony Orchestra, and I wept (quietly) from the moment I entered the venue. I guess I brought those tissues is anticipation of my weepiness. The beauty of the surroundings and the music put me straight against a life I have not lived to the full.
I really enjoyed reading this week’s post and wish you (as a hoarder amending her ways) all the luck and decisiveness letting that tricky sentimental stuff go. I loved Cynthia’s response to your unveiling of the jug’s meaning to you and how supportive she is (hi, Cyn!) Had no idea you two were closing the NS house chapter so I’m hoping it’s a relatively painless process for you both and sending virtual patience for the work to come. Also, I am wondering whether to accept a new Facebook friend request from « Philip Slayton Slayton », the unlikeliest name I could imagine you choosing…let me know!
It's so hard to know what to keep and what to get rid of. Having moved across the country a few times, I have for sure made the wrong call in either direction. I hope you will come see us before you leave!
Your story about your mother’s jug reminded me of a conversation I had with my brother when we were trying to clean out my mom’s apartment after she died. My brother said that her clothes and jewellery were imbued with her personality and he had a lot of trouble putting them in boxes to give to the Sally Ann. I had the opposite reaction - if my mom wasn’t wearing them, there was nothing special about her things. They had lost her flair and style and were just old things.
The picture of your mother is gorgeous!!!
You not so bad.
Keep this picture!!!
Yes, that photo of your and your mother is very touching.
Emotion is so powerful, and is such an important part of feeling alive. Life would be flat without it. So disparaging it as "sentiment" is destructive .
My memory is triggered by the sight of things...and thus I really have trouble for example putting certain clothes from earlier times now long unworn into the Salvation army bin. Once that particular shirt or scarf or whatever is gone I won't have the reminder of a person or event that that it gives me. I love time travel, and things as well as smells and tastes, can be such powerful transporters across time and space.
Your Mother's jug and bowl are irreplaceable for you. My feeling is that with special things such as these, you should keep them and part with something else that has less meaning and is replaceable.
I love these posts. Even though I'm just a wee bit younger than you, they mean the world to me. I am quite attached to certain things such as the canvas paintings that my older daughter created when she was age 11. They're beautiful, and I display them openly on one wall of my tiny living room. They were gifts from her to me, full of striking reds and purples in the shapes of women and flowers. Long before I had children I determined that my home would be filled with items that I made myself; thereby, reflecting me mainly through textiles - a deep love of mine. That intention has continued with the art my children have made. Both girls are musical and visual artists, their days occupied by the care of children or tending to the needs of others through their jobs. I have recently felt the pain of having not pursued a life of music, always post-poning, not believing that, one day, I won't be here. I recently attended a performance by the Montreal Symphony Orchestra, and I wept (quietly) from the moment I entered the venue. I guess I brought those tissues is anticipation of my weepiness. The beauty of the surroundings and the music put me straight against a life I have not lived to the full.
I really enjoyed reading this week’s post and wish you (as a hoarder amending her ways) all the luck and decisiveness letting that tricky sentimental stuff go. I loved Cynthia’s response to your unveiling of the jug’s meaning to you and how supportive she is (hi, Cyn!) Had no idea you two were closing the NS house chapter so I’m hoping it’s a relatively painless process for you both and sending virtual patience for the work to come. Also, I am wondering whether to accept a new Facebook friend request from « Philip Slayton Slayton », the unlikeliest name I could imagine you choosing…let me know!
A very moving column; been there.
You have much to look forward to
Love, Gina
I save the babbles so the babbles can save me!
It's so hard to know what to keep and what to get rid of. Having moved across the country a few times, I have for sure made the wrong call in either direction. I hope you will come see us before you leave!
Your story about your mother’s jug reminded me of a conversation I had with my brother when we were trying to clean out my mom’s apartment after she died. My brother said that her clothes and jewellery were imbued with her personality and he had a lot of trouble putting them in boxes to give to the Sally Ann. I had the opposite reaction - if my mom wasn’t wearing them, there was nothing special about her things. They had lost her flair and style and were just old things.
Glad that you kept the jug! I’m not entirely sure why I’m glad though. I guess I am identifying with the emotions.