Throughout my life I have found I go through phases when it comes to material things. Some people are more about material things than others. Some people are collectors as a hobby, and some refer to themselves as minimalist. I've even noticed this with my four grown sons. There is the one who is a collector and one who builds financial portfolios rather than favorite things. Both have rich and colorful lives, so it seems to be six one way and half a dozen the other.
Early in our marriage, over thirty years ago, we were minimalists due to the reality of our situation. We were basically kids starting out with little or nothing. Garage sales each Saturday morning at daybreak was where I found most of what went into our home. They were all second hand "barely used" items. And we slowly filled in the nooks and crannies of our small house.
Once the boys were in midstream of growing years, the house was overcome with cleats, balls, bats, sports equipment, toys, books, and a variety of pets. It was a menagerie of all things "boy." Then the transition to teenagers brought on an entirely new wave of "the things" that teenagers collect and need such as musical instruments, art supplies, jackets, shoes, and more shoes.
It was a matter of years after their departure to college and then homes of their own that these items began to disappear a little bit at a time. Either they had packed it off to an apartment or home, or I had packed it off to Goodwill for some other young mom building her arsenal.
And then we gutted the house, remodeled, and began from scratch building out all "the things" that represented us.
We began with some paintings, furniture, and new appliances. And then grandchildren began to pop up, creating a whole new need for different things. We designated a playroom with my mom's childhood furniture, an art easel, puppet theater, and toys. I built a new library of children's books and learning tools. My kitchen took on a whole new look as I began to bake bread and cookies and make homemade play dough with them. Those are all the memories Grandmothers get to make because they have the extra time with them young mothers never do.
All along as each new phase pushed out another there were still remnants of tiny pieces of that life. Old year books, high school jackets, Hardy Boys hardbacks, and critter catchers in the shed. It is now in this stage of life that my house most resembles my grandmother's house with drawers of yard flags, cotton table clothes and napkins, candles, and recipe books. Trunks of old toys mixed in with the new.
Cleaning out the hardware store had me thinking over all of this on various occasions. To the outside viewpoint things are just that. They are only things. And then one day I heard a lady reference an old handkerchief she was going to toss when cleaning out, but her mother stopped her and said, "That was what I used to dry my tears when your father passed away." We may never know why certain things are thought of as valuable when others find no use in them at all. I can say from firsthand experience that as we get older certain material things become priceless to us and other things no longer hold importance. But, at the end of the day they are only things. It is the intangible aspects of our lives we cannot store or sell. All "the things" we have had all along.
