I have to clean out my house… specifically, one room in my house that is full of boxes, old crafting stuff, and countless photos that I may or may not get a chance to scrapbook one day. Everything in this room, has spent time in other rooms of our house, just sitting and waiting only to end up in what I now call my “craft room”.
I talked previously on downsizing and accumulation, and how emotionally attached we are to THINGS whether or not they give us joy now. Starting in this room mainly because I know most of these things haven’t been looked at in years, this makes it easier to throw them away, sell them, or otherwise find them new locations if they are to be kept. The biggest thing I can tackle is my photo collection.
I am from the era of film strips. Our photos were taking using a camera that imparted the image onto a negative. We then turned around and dropped off said negative to be processed and turned into photos. Since this is an arduous process which took a lot of time, I always got doubles of everything. So I had some to give away if needed. When I started scrap-booking 10 years ago or more, I started getting triplicates! One to cut up, a second to give away (or in case I messed up my first cut) and one to keep as is.
So maybe this wasn’t the biggest thing to tackle, but it will be the easiest. Toss all the duplicate images, or sort for my (now adult) children, or anyone else, to decide if they want to keep their own copies. One of these stacks is for my sister.
Our mother passed away 8 years ago next month… just one month from her 60th birth day. Far to young, but she had a history of heart disease complicated by diabetes.
Our family is very close. My mother lived with me since before my daughter was born, and my sister lives in the same town. We had holidays together, and played games together. Needless to say, my photo collection is populated with images of my mother. I spent the better part of 2 hours sifting through some of these pictures.
I dreamt of my mother last night.
I find I think about her quite often and wonder what she would think of this journey I’m on. I think she would be proud of my choices. I often wonder if she would have joined us on our homestead had she still been with us. She loved gardening, and I think it would have resonated with her soul as it does mine. Maybe it is fantasy, but it is what I have. So I will keep it.