Belongings

   A homeless man’s possessions were all thrown away, along with other people’s belongings in a “tent” camp in a West Virginia city. “They just don’t care,” said the man. “It’s all a misunderstanding,” said officials because that camp was ransacked recently and the city thought they were just tossing away “leftover garbage.”

   Well, maybe, maybe not. But that homeless fellow lost everything he had near and dear to him, especially, he said, pictures of his family. He had no home to store his belongings. No fire destroyed it, no flood, nor other disaster. Just city officials assuming it was garbage sitting out in the camp.

   I don’t know how this could have been avoided. There are agencies who help the homeless, advocates who could have been sought to find out about this tent-camp. That homeless man now only has his memories, if nothing else.

   So many belongings we gather through the years are maybe not so important. What we received as a child- toys, bikes and such - we’ve likely thrown away. But they sure were important back then. We grow up here in America where consumerism is enveloped around us, ensnaring us, insisting we buy “the latest,” the “new-improved,’ the “most popular.” And with our ever-growing egotism we fall for it. But how important is “it?”

   There are material things that are important to an individual, I understand. Part of these things are like part of our self, our identity, like a cherished heirloom handed down a family line. The letter of a loved one. The medals of a soldier. The pictures - like the homeless man cited - dear pictures. Even though cyberspace can store modern-day ones, those from long ago could be forever lost. These things do have meaning - and we try to keep them throughout our lives. But as with everything else they have a temporary status.

   I often think how, after I die, much of what I owned materially will mean nothing to anyone. Maybe a few odds and ends here and there for family members still living. But overall it will likely be trashed, maybe distributed to Goodwill. The little silver rocking horse my nephew gave me when he was a child; the rosary Pope Francis blessed that one of my sisters gave me; the various knick-knacks both my sisters gave me through the years; the pictures. Things like these matter to me. After me, they won’t matter.

   “It’s all junk,” some might say. No, not really. Each person has material things that are important. We should all respect that. Now I’m not advocating for hoarding! (that’s a serious matter on a whole different level!) But respecting others, not only as people, but respecting what they own is important.

   Everything has meaning to someone, somewhere for some time. And when these things are gone, we have our memories, which hopefully will be forever with us.          Theresa M.
     

Theresa M

                                     

"The stuff in our lives shouldn't get in the way of our lives - they should augment the experience of our lives."    @TheMinimalists