The fire yesterday got me thinking of my attachment to things. Gandhi is said to have only owned the few things in this picture. At the othe end of the spectrum, I'm overcome with all the stuff in my house. There are days I'd like to get rid of it all and live a much simpler life. However, I have things to which I'm attached. Here's a list I've come up with so far:
a fruit bowl from my grandmother's house my notebooks from Catechesis of the Good Shepherd a picture over my computer of a woman in a storm a metal piece of artwork in my living room of birds in a tree a few antiques a quilt from my grandmother a picture I painted for Buck which hangs in our bathroom last supper figures my husband and I made together a creche made for Meredith Lee and my work in the city of course, old photos a chest Helen and Clay refinished for my fortieth birthday
How long would it take to replace all my homeschool material collected over seven years? I shudder to think.
I'm sure there are more items I'd miss. I know I'd be impatient and irritable working to replenish my home. I don't like that about myself.
I thought of how my neighbors might be ever so grateful to have everyone make it out safe from the fire. However, I considered the grief they'd experience as they remember something sentimental lost in the flames. How the grief would keep coming in waves over the entire year as they reached for something they used for a particular holiday, and it would have been destroyed.
What would you hate to lose? How would you handle such great loss?