The Souvenirs

We’re helping our late 80s parents prepare for the next chapter.  They are to move out of the house they have called home for six decades and in which they raised three boys.  In the process, they are contending with the mementos of their own parents.  Boxes filled with ancient photographs deserving proper and thorough perusal sit beneath dust and higher priorities.  Figurines, jewelry, laces, small wooden boxes… all souvenirs of two generations, maybe three in some cases.  But it is our task to pare down, to streamline, to fit these square peg emotional ties into the round holes of a coming future.  The six decade and once expanded Cape style home gives way to apartment living.

I have been thinking about all that we accumulate.  About where we place our emotional anchors.

And I have been pondering, through this experience which is all at once direct and personal… and distant and voyeuristic, my own future.  I have been thinking about where I am headed when my square peg, round hole days come.

And in these conclusions, it has seemed to me to be the wiser choice to invest in the souvenirs that don’t require boxes and downsizing.  To place emotional investments into loftier and more eternal stock.  In doing so, transitions will come more easily.

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