As long as I can remember saving bits and scraps of
memories, Christmas and birthday cards, grade school report cards, birth
announcements, baby books, funeral memorials, and anything else that was too
important to discard in good conscience.
Like the bad penny, no matter how deeply buried all of
that one-time vitally important stuff comes to the surface—no pennies don’t
float, but you know what I mean.
Then there are the material things acquired over the
years. For me just about all of that stuff can tell a story and the prospect of
sentencing it to a new life at ARC or Goodwill can be like divorce or a death
in the family. So much for untold years of materialism.
Just don’t give a damn and announce an estate sale,
but be warned: what happens if no one shows. There is always the Salvation
Army. That might save the day as well as you too.
This one is a lot of work but it might work.
Label with history tags all of the stuff you’ve saved
since World War II so the recipient will know its provenance. Then gather family
and close friends for a Free-for-All.
Again, you run the risk like “Smarty, Smarty had a
party” and nobody came. No matter how hard you try to cut the “silver
cord”—like even the rest of your life, it’s been one more blinking choice you
have to chance it.
You know, trying to get rid of that self nurtured rot
leads to this solution: just get up from your easy chair, leave all of that
clutter on the floor, open the door, lock it, and go out to the bar with a
friend. Tomorrow is another life!
© 24 October 2016
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