“Looks like I’ve got everything I wanted to get.” 

My friend closed the car trunk filled with a few remnants of her parents’ lives. She sighed as she said her good-byes. She’d inherited this place and over the years it had been good. Now it was a little too far from her home and a little too much to maintain. 

Her brother encouraged her to sell it. He said, “I have my memories. That’s all I need.”

I went with her to the bank when she signed the contract. Just like her, the house was beginning a new era. She said she was at peace as she released her last physical connection to her love-filled family past.  On the drive back home, we listened to old songs and reminisced about endings and beginnings. 

I shared how my last move had been one of my biggest life challenges. My husband was dying. We needed help. So, we left the life we loved in New Orleans and moved back to my childhood home where we were surrounded by supportive family. 

Decades of my mother, my mother-in-law and my aunt’s treasures were now my burden. Each piece, each box, required a decision. For me, the question was not just one of how I was going to move from one house to another half its size. The true question about everything I touched was, “Will it stay, or will it go?”

It was awful.

I had to decide. What did all of this seemingly important clutter really mean? What did this stuff represent to me?

I’d loved these women. They were important to me. Their presence was palpable in every vase, pan or flower pot. To toss their ‘treasures’ was like losing them all over again.

But decisions had to be made.

I began with Christmas decorations. That was a good place to start because it forced me into a reality check. Our life was facing massive change. I culled through the boxes and brought only those ornaments that were important to me. 

From that shaky beginning, I was able to let go of my mother’s patio furniture and bunk beds that my now adult sons had slept in decades ago. My grandmother’s dining room table was too big for our new home. When I realized that I was the only one who remembered the ghosts of loved ones who sat around it long ago, it was a little easier to let it go. 

 I have to admit it, I felt relief as my physical footprint grew lighter. 

There are a few regrets. I chose my ‘good’ china that I never really liked over my favorite everyday plates. There was only room for one bike and even though my husband could no longer ride I knew how important his bike was to him. My beloved college bike stayed. 

As I faced an overwhelming task, I had to ask myself some tough questions. Did these important ladies want their ‘treasures’ to bring me such heartache? No. Do I want my children to have to wrestle with my treasures? No.

I’ve seen old photographs of pianos abandoned as wagon trains inched their way to a new life in the West. The horse drawn wagons began the journey filled with what was considered to be the bare necessities, but as the wagon train went on for months, and travel became more difficult, non-essentials were tossed. Personal priorities changed. 

Priorities changed for me too as I realized that it wasn’t the material things I held in my heart. The true value lies in the memories they evoked.

I agree with my friend’s brother. I have my memories and that is enough. It pleases me to know that other boys sleep in the bunk beds that were standing empty and another family breaks bread around my grandmother’s table. The value for me lies in those memories created for others. 

And I am free.