The items we hold on to may not always be the most valuable, but they hold a special place in our hearts. I have my dad’s old tee shirt, my children’s baby teeth, a holy water font from my grandparents’ bed, and Annie’s beret… Each of these items is a thread in the fabric of our story, transporting me back in time.
I’ve got some decorative stuff in our house; as you know, I have this thing for the brocante, but they’re not as important as the things that hold memories for me. Those are the ones I really care about. French Husband is far more sentimental than I am or ever will be. What is oddly funny is that I like a home to feel inviting, curious, engaging, and well put together, but I can sell off stuff and replace it and do it again with little bother, whereas French Husband could live in a house with a cardboard boxes for a dresser, an air matttess, sleeping bag, some kitchen stuff, and a fold up table and not be bothered: Camping Style. Yet, at the same time, he wants whatever I bring into our home to stay and appreciates it. We all have our comfort level and things that add meaning or symbolic meaning, right?
And then there’s the stuff in the back of our closets or under our beds, like books, souvenirs, a box of seashells collected on the last vacation, craft products, or a pile of clothes because we might need them someday. That’s French Husband! He keeps boxes from appliances, and broken items.
The same applies to ‘tag-on’ memories, especially the ones that weigh us down. They cling to our minds like barnacles, cluttering our hearts and hindering our ability to let go and move on.
French Husband is the master of not letting things tag on; he can let go of stuff like that from the instant it is said or done. He doesn’t get caught up in the tangle of emotion or other people’s opinions. He amazes me with his brilliance in letting go and letting be. On the other hand, I need to process it verbally, re-soak it up like a sponge, and do it again. I do get there eventually.
We hold on to things, thoughts, dreams, paths… the things we keep might not be the most valuable, yet they speak to us of something. We just need to let go of the stuff that doesn’t matter and sit close to whatever helps us be well.
Letting go and moving on can be like untangling a knot. It’s a journey that we all embark on, and it’s not always easy, is it?
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