The gentle, or not so gentle, pushing of time has me looking at the personal belongings of my past, including Zane’s items. It has come time to hold them and decide if their future finds a place in my home or just in my heart. It is not easy, and I have been gentle with this process, taking me almost a full year to sort through decades of personal and family memories.
I began with my childhood report cards my mother kept for me. That was an easy one. Chuck. I read my old diaries laughing at what was so important to me as a teen and my choice of boyfriends. A couple of sentiments I wrote down and some things I shared with the people they were about, like a friend who I was jealous of when a childhood boyfriend liked her better. We both chuckled at the truth that here we are, great friends and where was the boy? As I purged, I found that it got harder to decide whether to throw out or keep as the years came closer to the present time.
This can work for any item you are considering, what should I do with this. Some mementos were easy to say goodbye to. Extra photos, old birthday cards, anniversary cards, done. The kids baby calendars, I took and typed out in a word document all the milestones, giving me a paperless record of their growth. I took pictures of the kids’ artwork, so I have a collage of all their drawings.
Some of the piles took longer, like Zane’s things. His belongings were the hardest. And to be honest, most of them I couldn’t depart with. I did consolidate some things. I did find new homes for other things, thanks to his friends. And a quilt of his favorite t-shirts will be made in the future.
With each pile, I reflected and basked in the memory. I experienced laughter remembering some aha moments and there were a copious number of tears. With the items that I decided could not continue travelling with me, I created a process I call ceremonial purging.
With each group of items that I went through, the things I was to throw away I put into one pile. When I was finished with that group, I took the ‘garbage pile’ and spoke to it. I thanked it for being a part of my life, for giving me lessons and leaving memories behind because of it. I acknowledged that the items making this pile included teachings that were part of my life and who I am today. And then I would lovingly pick it up and kiss the top of the pile. And without putting it down, I would walk, ceremoniously with good thoughts to the garbage bin. There, I would give thanks one more time for all it brought me, the good, the bad, and the ugly. And then with a dramatic pitch I would throw the pile into the bin with an AMEN. And I would turn and not look back.
Strange? Maybe. But this ceremony, the disposing of things that at one time were so important to keep, helps let them go. It honors what the items symbolize; my life and the people in it and the gratitude of the blessings that accompanied such. I feel lighter knowing that the inanimate keepsakes of the past have been loved and sent to the bin with appreciation and that the things still here have a new home of honor.
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