Why Lord? Why am I like this?
This week I have spent a lot of time on my “picture project”, which involves more than pictures, it also involves concert tickets, movie tickets that were a special time with kids, grandkids, friends, or my Love. It involves articles, greeting cards, ribbons, and various sorts of sundry things. I have alluded to this project on a few occasions in my blogs because it is ongoing and overwhelming.
I am tired of it. I get emotional from it, which is pretty much good memories, but the ongoing assault of past life and what’s been left behind, what and who was here and will never be again can be a hard pill to swallow. I miss so many people. I also miss the things I have done and wish I could do again, but I am just not up to it. Or I have gotten the “been there done that blues.”
My end goal is have easy access to the memories by sorting them in albums and file boxes. Not just for myself, but for my family that will inherit them. Also the goal is to have all the boxes these things are in emptied so I can get rid of clutter. I have made great progress over the last few years, but I’m still not done, I am really tired of it, I’m thinking of just taking a match to it all, which really means to throw it away, but when I have that thought a fear ascends on me that I will be throwing away a beautiful nugget of a memory from my mom or sisters who have left this world and that is all I have left to remember them by. And I might mention here that I have a fear of losing memories, so if I have something to help me remember, so much the better.
I have asked myself, “what’s wrong with me”? “Why am I like this”? I ran all this by my daughter today and she said “well duh mom, I think we all know the answer to that question”. She is talking about the fact that for the first thirty-one years of my life I was never in one place for more than a couple of months. We moved, a lot! I had to leave so so much behind, so that by the time I settled down into this house, and more importantly, recovery from drug abuse, I held on tight to every memory, to every tangible memory I could. Not everything everything, but pieces of it, just enough to help me remember that I do exist, I did exist and I did have people who loved me.
I knew very well going into this blog today would probably be therapeutic for me. It is opening my eyes a bit more, but mostly, right now, I just want to cry. I ask again, “what’s wrong with me”? It’s easy to identify the crazy upbringing and the leaving behind of my belongings and treasures, even my cute German Shepard puppy, Charlie. Still makes me sad, but why? Why, after all these years, steps, inventories and talking and praying about it do I still hang on?
My husband says, “that’s just who you are and because you want to.” Hang on to old memories that is. I do take notice of what happens to people’s stuff when they die, and mostly, no one cares, if it is of any use to someone maybe it gets donated, or if there is something of value, a family member will take it and keep it or sell it. But the pictures and concert tickets, no one cares, most of it will go in the trash. ☹
Well, thanks for the therapy session, I will just keep plugging along, saving and filing what my heart won’t let me get rid of yet. Oh, by the way, I have thrown a lot of stuff away this last week, mostly, if it was my mom’s pictures of her friends that I do not know and not a clue where to find them. But I do have a couple of packets for a friend of hers and another lady.
Meanwhile, I am proud to announce that they have found a new secretary for our Web Committee, yay. I’ve done it over three years, so this week has been about letting go. I am good with that, there are many other things I’d rather be doing, like, writing! Lol.
Question of the Week: What’s wrong with me?
