Some years back I wrote a column about letting things go and not dwelling on them. This came about when a dear friend asked me, "Will this matter to you in ten years?" And because it would not matter to me at all I should let it go.
The funny thing is even what I would have thought would really matter to me in ten years when looking back does not. Things that seemed so important at one moment dissolved as more experiences moved in.
I am writing about this because there is also a flip side to this I have realized recently as I am stepping into a new season of my life.
There are many things that do matter to me now. They matter a great deal more than I ever thought they would. An older friend reached out to me about some items from her past she wanted to purge. And when reading through her list it occurred to me that her granddaughters may want some of these down the road even if they do not take interest in them in the present. I know that has been the case with me.
Looking back on my life as a daughter, mother, wife, employer, and hobbyist, a lot changes in a decade and even more changes in two decades. Things that seem crucial in the moment when looking back over the years were something to chuckle about. But there are also things I did not find important when I was embroiled in the turmoil and high energy of those years raising children. If it was not of good use, it was in the way.
I have an old quilt that my grandmother made with her sister more than 75 years ago. It has a few stains and worn spots. It is made of old pieces of fabric used for clothes and other household rags I believe. It does not have a consistent color scheme and wouldn't even be considered attractive, but it is priceless mainly because it is an antique and hand stitched. I also have a manufactured quilt that is blue and white that is of no historic value at all, but it is priceless to me because it is the quilt my grandmother was using in her recliner to snuggle up in her final years. I believe she had ordered it from a catalog.
This quilt has many frayed lines. Material is pealing back. The quality is poor. There is no real batting. But it remains folded on the arm of my couch. The dogs and I use it to snuggle in when we watch television. Every now and then I will pull out my needle and thread and mend it in places, but as fast as I do this the material pulls away in other spots. While mending it, I think back to the time I was newly married, and we sat in her kitchen while she taught me how to sew on a button. When I am long gone that old antique handstitched quilt on my quilt rack will continue to be passed down with awe over the craftsmanship of a past ancestor. They will have no idea that ancestor could sew on a mean button. And this manufactured quilt will be reduced to rags. The sentimental connection will be lost to them.
I try to remind myself about these things when I interact with my sons and their wives. I try to think back to what was important to me two decades ago. They are in those robotic years of raising little people, building careers and functional homes. They need leftovers sent their way, sturdy dishes, containers for storing. They need time spent listening to their future plans and help watching their children while they catch a breather.
It will be many years before they stop to cherish the lamp I used on my writing desk or rifle their dad used to kill his prized deer. A lot changes in a decade and even two. What mattered then may not matter later. But what items connect us to the memories made in these passing years will later become priceless.
