Happy Birthday Wilfrida!
I'm back following a move that involved
downsizing. The new place so far shows
no signs of inflating to accept my abundance of possessions. Adding water to
the walls in hopes of expanding my space is futile. You know those tiny compact
sponges that inflate when doused with H20? A small piece of material transforms into a
Godzilla sponge, the magic isn’t working for me.
My hiatus has given me much to ponder. My pondering has included the mystery of
packing and the loss of trees that have brought me a truckload of stuff.
I have been obsessed
with collectors, collections and the accumulation of stuff, most of my
life. I have watched friends who as
children liked frogs as they grew - so did their collections. The amphibians
hop to each new location some staying in boxes and eventually moving to storage
units. We all have a soft spot for objects and collections that accompany us
throughout life. Some less, some more, which does not always make us candidates
for the show Hoarders.
I admire those who do
not collect or fall in love with possessions. Their abodes look like a tasteful
Zen spa or robbery stripped them clean.
As much as I admire
my unattached brethren, I am not only committed to my things, I am emotionally attached
to their history.
Unpacking I look at
the pitcher that was my great grandmother’s. When I set a table using
Wilfrida’s china and crystal I remember my mother purchasing her china, one and
two plates at a time. I am at her beautifully set table we are together,
timelines merging. I walk on rugs from
family.
The bits and pieces
that surround me are all stories of amazing people whose history and courage I
see when I touch and look at the piece of their past that I own.
I think of all those
through the ages who have lost physical items to war, to disaster, but did not
loose their lives and started over. I have a choice to remember the person and
keep the connection by re-telling their stories and sharing them.
Today is Wilfrida’s
birthday and as I continue to unpack her life and my life I know she would want
me to travel with her love and less of her objects and those of other’s. There are times when the past leaves no room
for both the present and the future.
