Hi Mom,
I have been going through my things and separating things that I need (or so I think) as well as things that it's too painful to part with at this time.
I spend a lot of time thinking about this issue of what to keep and what to let go because I know with everything that I keep that I am prolonging the pain. I can't keep my things forever. Ultimately we will stop owning things. We will die. And it's true what they say about taking things beyond: you can't.
But I struggle with things that have been part of my life for a very long time. For instance, these books have been on a shelf in my home since 1971. Dictionaries are rather an odd historical piece of ephemera in this day and age. I used to use my dictionary all the time, and I own several. But now, I use the Internet.
I prefer
http://www.thefreedictionary.com/
I keep this Free Dictionary site open in my browser all the time. The main page of the Free Dictionary is also a customizable RSS reader, which is super helpful.
So, I don't really need book dictionaries. I don't need several copies. And I surely want a better one than this six volume dictionary for children as endearing as it may be.
But then, there's the sentiment.
Check out this photo below (no surprise to you, Mom, as this is your handwriting).
Mom, you wrote in all my books that you gave as gifts. You wrote this same message, lovingly, exactly the same, in your artful cursive hand-writing, in all six volumes of this gift of Dictionaries that I received for my ninth birthday, which is clearly indicated in the note in case we forget to do the math later when we're old, like we are now, Mom.
I have written about this process already. I feel there must be some pain involved in the purging, the letting go. If there is not pain, then I am not doing it right. I am not really letting go of enough stuff.
The sentiment is the only feeling holding me back from letting go of these books, Mom. Wanting to preserve pieces of you, your handwriting, things you gave me. But more than the things themselves, I want to preserve your caring, loving thoughtfulness. I want to save the gifts you gave because you put so much thought and care into them, and then you helped me care for the possessions as we moved from my childhood home on Hazelwood to West Gull Lake Drive.
But as I cull through my possessions, I have found that the letting go feels good, too. There's a freedom in the purge, in the giving up, the giving away of these things, which, though sentimental, are also tremendous burdens.
I had considered photo documenting all the books I owned or at least the books that were gifts from you, Mom, or the books I have read and enjoyed.
But such photographing is much too much work, especially right now as I am in the final countdown until the big moving truck arrives. And being in this countdown makes me wonder why we did not spend the money on full packing service. Last time we moved we said we would splurge for full packing service next time. I am sure we will say that again this time as we deal with this massive transition. So, I am not fully photo documenting. This blog entry symbolizes all of the gifts, all of the loving care you shared with me, Mom, and how I am letting go of the things but not of the feelings.
So, tomorrow with the help of some dear friends, I am taking this massive load of books and movies to Better World Books in Indiana (hitting the Goshen location). I like this company because they will re-sell as many of these books as possible, they will donate others world wide where they can be useful, and the rest they will conscientiously recycle.
I will have more blog posts about this (like tomorrow's on trailers), but here's some pictures (below) of the largely unboxed stacks so far.
Goodbye library.
There's many great volumes of reading and great knowledge and entertainment in this load of stuff. I wish it well and happiness to those who make use of it.
Also, inspired by this: Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #752 - Letting go of BOOKS.
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Reflect and connect.
Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.
I miss you so very much, Mom.
Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.
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- Days ago = 761 days ago
- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1708.04 - 10:10
NOTE on time: When I post late, I had been posting at 7:10 a.m. because Google is on Pacific Time, and so this is really 10:10 EDT. However, it still shows up on the blog in Pacific time. So, I am going to start posting at 10:10 a.m. Pacific time, intending this to be 10:10 Eastern time. I know this only matters to me, and to you, Mom. But I am not going back and changing all the 7:10 a.m. times. But I will run this note for a while. Mom, you know that I am posting at 10:10 a.m. often because this is the time of your death.
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