A Challenge

Originally Written Between 2013-2015              

First of all, coming up with a topic to write about has certainly been a huge challenge for me.  I guess I have too many challenges from which to choose.  While mulling over my list of possibilities, I remembered a conversation I had with the wife of one of my former bosses.  Aurie, at the time, had just moved to Minnesota from Puerto Rico and she was just starting to learn some English.  One afternoon, Aurie called me at work and asked, “What is ‘stuff?’”  She went on to explain that her five-year old daughter had just returned from kindergarten and asked, “Mom – can I put my stuff in the hall closet?”  Aurie said, “yes,” but quickly called me to see if that was the correct answer since she didn’t know what “stuff” was.  I explained to her that “stuff” was probably her school papers in her backpack and that was okay to throw in the closet.

STUFF.  Another word might be THINGS.  Or POSSESSIONS.  The more I thought about it, I realized that I am challenged by my stuff – or my things, or my possessions – and certainly, by all my junk.

I have a lot of things.  Way too many clothes.  And yet, I find myself shopping for new things every season.  So, the challenge for me is to really sort through the clothes that I have and as some people have suggested, give away what I haven’t worn in over a year or two.  Well, that may help some people, but my thinking is that I just may get back into those “size 10” dresses and pants and therefore, I won’t have to buy anymore.  Of course, those “size 10” items are no longer in style.  But, that’s beside the point.  Actually, what I should be doing is something that my sister-in-law does:  For every item she brings into her home, she takes something out.  That’s my challenge.  And some day – or year – I just might get around to doing that.

Another challenge for me is in my basement.  I still have several boxes of photos that have to go into albums.  Oh, I started out – all those many years ago – with good intentions of making individual photo albums for each of our four children.  And, I did that.  Each child has at least 5-6 albums made especially for him or her.  But family life got hectic and I found it was a lot easier to just place all the pictures in one album instead of their individual ones.  So, that is where my challenge is.  I want to give my now-adult children their albums – but, first…. I have to go through at least 20 albums and decide which child gets which picture.

I also have other challenges with other things.  Such as – I have at least six Rubbermaid bins filled with pictures and other memorabilia from 14 years of my parents owning the local roller rink in my hometown.  They produced a skating show and a King and Queen of Skateland contest every year and have lots of pictures to prove it.  My mom also wrote two newspaper columns – one about the comings and goings of the roller rink and after they sold the rink, she wrote about the history of Forest Lake.  I’m talking years and years of full-page articles.  And I am the keeper of each one.  While I do have my favorite pictures, I’d like to share them and have them placed in the town’s historical museum.  The problem is:  Forest Lake doesn’t have one.  Maybe the Washington County Historical Society would like them.  I guess that is one challenge I’m going to have to tackle in the near future since my kids don’t have any memories of the roller rink or Forest Lake and they’ll probably just throw them out.  

I have to admit that I’m very sentimental and can’t throw away anything that belonged to my parents or grandparents.  For instance, I have lots of kitchen utensils and dishes.  One plate I have only held sliced tomatoes and cucumbers.  That’s all I remember my mom placing on that plate.  So, of course, tomatoes and cukes are the only items allowed to be on that plate now that I own it!  It’s almost like I’m committing a mortal sin to use the plate for anything else!  My challenge?  What do I do with these items?  My solution is writing a little note on the back of each item giving the history or memory of that item.  When I’m gone, the kids will have to decide what to do with them.  How’s that for “passing the buck?”

I seem to collect things.  When I was just out of high school, my mom started giving me pieces of Christmas China called Spode.  Each holiday and birthday, I’d get a plate or a cup or bowl of Spode.  I now have a complete setting for 12 and I love entertaining and decorating my table during the holidays with my china.  The trouble is:  I was given another 8-place setting of another version of Christmas china from my Aunt Bev.  Besides, the holiday dishes, I also have our wedding china and everyday dishes.  And, my sister-in-law has told me that Norm’s mother’s wedding china would be willed to us after she dies.  Now, how many sets of china do I really need?  Since I still host all of the family holidays, they all get used.  But, at some point, I won’t be in charge anymore.  I’m not sure if my daughter or daughters-in-law even want any of my fancy stuff.  Silver is not popular anymore; but with donations from 2 or 3 generations before me, I have plenty.  The consignment stores won’t even take them.  Another challenge.  I suppose I could ask my kids.  I guess I’m afraid of their answers.  Well, I won’t worry about it now.

How about jewelry?  I have lots of jewelry – again, I’ve inherited some pretty nice pieces from my mom and grandmother.  They don’t have much monetary value but they do have loads of sentimental value.  My challenge?  Since I have my favorite pieces that I wear all the time (such as my watch from my dad), I’ve decided to place each item in a little pouch and write a little note about why it is so special to me.  Again, the kids will be deciding – and after all, I won’t know what they decide.  The control over my “stuff” will no longer be mine.  Yikes – that’s depressing.

I know I’m just like my mom.  I’m very sentimental and I have a story about everything.  I’d like to close with a story about my mom having an estate sale of most of their “stuff” since she was moving into a small apartment closer to us.  My brother, Steve, and his wife, Melanie, and Norm and I spent more than a week helping mom get ready for her sale.  Mom decided on the price for each item.  Norm and Steve were the “heavy lifters” who placed the items in the new owner’s vehicles.  Melanie and I were in charge of collecting the money.  Mom held court in the house telling each person the history of each item.  Now, mom and dad collected coffee cups from practically every trip they took and they had received many as gifts over the years from their friends and neighbors.  They had quite a few duplicates of certain cups.  On one cup, she had written 25 cents.  She had another one just like it on the same table.  But, this one was marked 50 cents.  I asked her why the discrepancy in price for the same kind of cup.  “Oh,” she replied as she picked up the 50 cents cup.  “My friend, Toots, gave me that one.”