The Challenges of Being Sentimental

If you have seen Into the Woods, you’ll understand why I can’t stop talking about it.  It was the best movie I’ve seen in a long time, hands down.  It was hilarious, and the singing wasn’t even annoying (until we walked out of the theater and every thought I had was to the tune of “I wish”).  Maybe it was because I was with my best friend, maybe it was the half bottle of wine, maybe it was the dinner with some awesome women that made the night so spectacular, but I loved that movie.   Okay, Johnny Depp was incredibly creepy and pedophilic, but other than that, the movie was great.   I guess I’m getting ahead of myself, though…

     (Wine and friends before the movie)

 With my move date fast approaching, I made a trip home (aka my mom and dad’s houses), and after enlisting the brute strength of Natalie (if you know her, you should have just laughed), we took to the task of loading up mattresses, box springs, and more books than she should have let sneak by.  She was my voice of reason saying “You are never going to/should never read this again,” and the force behind throwing old books into a big box labeled “Donate.”  Okay, the box actually wasn’t very big, because truth be told I have a hoarding problem that apparently applies only to books and family heirlooms that my grandma wishes to donate, but that I can’t seem to part with when I hear how old they are.  

My RV is now full of huge metal fans with butterflies, brightly-colored wooden Mexican masks, old and super breakable bowls from China (or perhaps an antique store in San Francisco?), tiny liquor glasses that were bought long ago (this one was actually Huck’s doing), and various other old-but-can’t-let-em-go items that should probably find a loving home with more space, but that I have to stare at for a while longer before being the one to cast them away.  It reminds me of the bridge in Florence that a Nazi general refused to bomb because he didn’t want to go down in history as the one who destroyed the historic landmark.   I don’t want to go down in history for giving away Grandma’s tiny liquor glasses.  And so be it.

I have tried to make a habit of only keeping things that I use (they can’t just be “functional,” such as a liquor glass is functional.  I have to actually use it), or that I think is beautiful and that makes me happy to look at.  Not stressed, which is what I feel each time I enter the Huggy Hut and see those fans in the back.  So this week, as I pack up my beloved tiny space and go through all things with this mantra in the back of my mind, I will try and let go.  I will remember that memories are kept upstairs in the head and heart, not in little fragile liquor glass or the massive metal butterfly fans.  That the people I love are immortalized in my memories of them and not in the bowls they once owned.  

Living simply is full of these challenges- letting go of stuff while grasping tighter to experiences, loved ones, memories.  It makes me really stop and think about sentiment, and whether a bowl is a reasonable stand in for a loved one.  I think the fans must go, but I am keeping that beautiful bowl.

P.S.  If there are any takers on the above mentioned items, let me know and I’d love to pass them along!