My Stuff

I have always loved my stuff.  Always.  And, I have always had a lot of stuff to love.  It might be a sin to love stuff as much as I do. I got rid of stuff every time we moved.  But, sometimes, stuff accumulated faster than I got rid of it.

When I went to Honduras over 10 years ago, I culled stuff and more stuff.  I looked at what was left and started over.  I was so proud of how much  of my stuff that I said good-bye to.  I put most of what was left in a storage unit in Columbus.  I thought it would be there for 3-5 years.  I also have stuff other places, mainly Texas.  I may never get it all to Baton Rouge.

In January, I opened my storage unit for the first time in 10 years.  Some friends were with me.  There were collapsed boxes, which was a powerful reminder of my collapsed dreams.  The waves of emotion that rolled over me were dizzying.  Hundreds of thousands of memories came pouring out of that storage unit and into my heart.  I did not cry.  At that moment.  I waited until I had a car load of boxes and was in the car by myself.  Then the tears flowed freely.  I never even thought about how hard it would be to raise that door and see all that stuff

There is still a bunch of stuff in that unit.  It is haunting my dreams.  I know have to get rid of more stuff.  It is emotionally gut-wrenching.  Some things I look at and not only wonder why I kept it, but why I had it to begin with.

Some things I won't get rid of.  Some of it, I don't have the emotional fortitude to even look at right now.  But, I will.  I will look at everything and touch everything and I will get rid of more stuff.  Lots more stuff.  Until I do, I guess I will continue to see boxes of stuff in my dreams.