Things and Meaning

A young friend of mine recently lost something dear to her. It was the last fragment of a larger piece that was shattered in a move. This piece was dear to her because it was a delightful memory of loved one who has passed away.
When a treasured item is lost some might say, "It's just stuff. The memories are still there." True at one level, but not the whole truth. I am sad for my friend's loss. It's also given me an opportunity to think about my things and what they mean to me.
I love my things. They're tangible memories.
I grew up with a mother who showed a lot of restraint in the purchasing and keeping of "things." She's told me often that she makes decisions about whether to buy something based on how badly she was willing to dust it. Mom is a student of the "less is more" school of decorating. I am not. I love to create "table scapes," arranging and rearranging my "props"-collectibles, junk, souvenirs and mementos. Oh, and occasionally dusting around and, when I'm feeling really ambitious, under them.
My home would at best be described as a medley of paraphernalia. More often than I'd like, the medley becomes a cacophony. Sometimes I fantasize about paring down, but as I look around I can't imagine saying goodbye to much of it. In my secret heart I dream that I'm all clean lines and shiny surfaces. But I'm facing the fact that this is who I am. I am a collector. I love things. My interest in certain kinds of stuff waxes and wanes. My tastes change. Some things that I treasured in my 20's are easy to let go in my 40's. Other things I keep because they are still precious to me after many years or decades.
have a friend who collects cups and saucers. She has been given many over the years. She can tell you the history of each. Now in the latter half of her life she is taking great pleasure in gifting her collection away. I was the recipient of one for Christmas. She gave me a beautiful rose teacup and saucer that someone close to me gave to her when they were teenagers, before I knew either one. She took a photograph of me with the teacup and explained that as she gave each away she is taking the photos to cement the memories of it in her mind. It's a lovely thought and a precious gift to me. I
One method I have to satisfy my craving for collecting things is to collect only things I will use. Then I use them. If something gets damaged or broken in use I can usually console myself by remembering that this is what my things are for, to use. A friend once said, "This is a collectible, are you sure we should use it?" I explained that I don't collect things I won't use. And it's the truth.
But this doesn't work for everything, as my young friend recently found out. The last piece of a memento of her dear grandfather was accidently dropped and shattered. I'm sad for her. It will make me much more careful when I dust my rose teacup and I'll think of my own friend and her thoughtfulness when I use it to drink tea.