TheBanyanTree: Will

[NancyIee at aol.com]

I think of my boxes and the albums and all the things that came from the 
stories told us by great-grandmother-grandmother-mother . and now, it's my turn.  
"This came over from Sweden with my grandfather's family . . . ."  "My 
grandfather bought this for the grandfather at the World's Fair when they were first 
dating . . ."etc, etc.

It's just stuff.  It might have value to those who collect such trinkets. I 
could get something for it, I suppose, should I sell it.  But, what if my 
children want such a touch from the past? What if my grandchildren, hearing the 
stories once more, are intrigued enough to want something of that time to hold, 
to touch?  Or, what if it's just . .stuff.

Your'e right, it's an anchor, all this material collection of the past. When 
we go, we take the memories with us, not boxes and trunks of photos and china 
creamers.  If I should suddenly want to travel the world, I could not take it 
all, or any part of it, really, with me.  If I give it too much value, I might 
decide I can't travel and leave all these valuable things behind. I have to 
guard it. I have to keep it.

It all means something to me, yet. The little dressing table where my mother 
kept her pretty hankies.  I not only have the little burled walnut dressing 
table, but all the hankies still  neatly folded in the little drawers. Once a 
year I might open the drawer and smell again, the gentle scent of my mother's 
powders. Yes, it has value to me.  But, it is not something I can use daily. It 
does not fit into my new home's decor.  It is simply a lovely, scented  bit of 
the past. Right now, I can't part from it.

But the time is coming when I know I will have to  downsize, and leave these 
things behind. If none of my children or their children, or  any other member 
of the family has need for my stuff . . I guess strange hands  will sort and 
take it away.

Ashes to ashes . . . . .