All that matters is that your loved ones are healthy, that you have done your best, and that you are grateful for all you have.
Sifting through my mothers’ belongings before we sell her house is a revelation. She loved pretty things. She collected many of them. But she was not a hoarder. When she bought new clothes for a season, she would cull her old clothes and send some to cousins, or she consigned them, others went to “Goodwill” for donation.
As a result, the house was never stuffed with things no longer in use. Her closets had room for everything, and clothes hung neatly. Now she needs nothing at all, in the spiritual realm.
My family has to go through her things and disperse them. Mostly it is up to my sister and me to do because our brother is too ill.
My sister is very much into “things.” And she can afford to have unlimited possessions and clothes and jewels. These things matter to her.
A woman asked me if I got along with my sister.
“Not always,” I replied. “We have very different lifestyles. She lives in luxury few can afford. She has two large houses and a superabundance of stuff.”
“Do you envy her?” she asked.
“Not at all,” I said.
“Why is that?” the woman asked me.
“I have something she will never have.”
“What is that,” she asked.
“Enough.” I replied.
It is not my aim to sound mean. I seek understanding. Today it is hard to feel the desire for more and more. But it was not always so. Like many other women, I shopped for pleasure. I had money and bought much of what I wanted. Though there is always a limit to how much one can fit into a house. I was not as good as my mother about culling. It was not unusual for me to fill my closet so full that I could take out all the hangers and the clothes would still stay up off of the ground due to the pressure of one against the other. They held themselves up. Clearly, something was lacking in my life.
But as life buffeted me about, my values began to hone themselves and develop smooth edges. Sort of like waves tumble rocks in the ocean and smooth them into round stones. You can find them on the beach and marvel at the transformation. So it is with me after many, many years and many, many tears. My edges are smoothed over, and I roll more easily. Living in the country helped. Life and death experiences helped. Knowledge of the importance of family, health and happiness of loved ones swept over me, engulfing me in gratitude for my lovely relatives and even my dogs. (Maybe ESPECIALLY my dogs).
I was shocked by the strength of the revelation. Fortunate in every way, my gratitude rushed over me and nearly knocked me flat. There was nothing else as important. No thing. No other person was as important as my loved ones. Every morning, now, I begin the day with a little nod of gratitude to my Higher Power. It often feels as if there is an aura of gratefulness surrounding me as I go to my pilates class, eating meals, changing clothes, socializing, and especially when chatting with my extended family by email, text, phone, or in person. I am truly blessed.
Copyright©. 2020 Bonnie B. Matheson