Stuff

      Rainy day yesterday.  My plans early on were to go to the movies, but as the day progressed, the movies were not in my thoughts.  I spent some time going through one of the overstuffed closets as a precursor to getting rid of stuff.  I have a lot of stuff.  Stuff I collected with my husband before he died.  Stuff my husband collected.  Stuff I've collected since.  Under the umbrella of stuff there is good stuff, interesting stuff, useful stuff, and then just plain crap.  Why am I keeping this kind of  crap.  I came across some stuff that is salable but I'm not sure how to sell it, nor if it will sell.
    I took pictures of some of the stuff I think I might sell.   The dead body decanter, for example.  Maybe get $20 for it if I can find the correct place to post it.  Then there's the sports cups collected over the years.  Not really post on ebay types, but maybe a garage sale will net me 50 cents each? In any event, stuff needs to go.
    This doesn't even include the books I have.  Books and books and books.  I think I'll try to sell the first editions in case anyone wants them, but what to do with the rest?  Donate them for library sales, perhaps?  Maybe leave them around town with a note inside...pass it on...
    Thing is, when it comes to books, or really, any of the stuff, well, most of the stuff, it's hard to say goodbye.  These are part of my life, things I've enjoyed or we've enjoyed.  Things that were going to make us some money in our retirement years.  Now, I don't see that happening.  Should have invested in gold.
     I look at all of this stuff and see dollar signs, frivolous purchases.  I mean, they weren't at the time, but now when understanding the difference between stuff and money, I judge my younger self.  I could have had a lot more actual cash.  To do what with though?  How much money do I really need?  I'm comfortable in so many more ways than so many people.  I am entirely grateful to what I do have--roof over my head, food to eat, a means of transportation.  So why am I concerned?  I'm putting something on the stuff and selling/getting rid of  the stuff that is more than about money and opportunities lost to be like Scrooge McDuck and swim in my pool full of money.  What is it?
     Where once happiness and pride of ownership enveloped the stuff, now it drips with memories of what was once.  Each book, each collectible has its own story, and it is the story that I do not want to lose.  But, how can I?  Memories randomly enter my mind frequently, uninvited, but welcomed.  I know the memories that the stuff holds can revisit as well in the pool of memories.
      To keep in some way so that I can recall at will, I can always take pictures.  So, the solution to the holding of memories is a fairly easy one.  There is something deeper, something more I need to ponder.  Perhaps as I come to understand it, I will also find it easier to divest myself of the stuff.   I'll let you know : )