My stuff is who I am. I support businesses and causes and present myself to the world through my stuff.
My stuff is a representation of my (or Greg's hard work). We work hard for our income, which we then turn into stuff. The more we work, the more stuff we can buy (in theory).
My stuff is my independence. I don't have to rely on others to make dinner or wash my clothes or what ever else I want to do because I have my own stuff and can do what I want with my stuff. I can break or spit on or beat with a bat or love and clean my stuff in whatever way I want because it's my stuff and I worked for it and I paid for it. But when I don't have my stuff, or my stuff gets left in my garage, then I'm not independent. I am a leech. Other people have to feed my and my family. I have to borrow stuff from other people and worry constantly about not breaking or spitting on or beating with a bat or loving and cleaning other people's stuff in a way better than they would, because they worked hard for it and they bought it and it's there's--not mine.
My stuff isn't just stuff, it's mine and it's me and I want it back.
Some of my stuff I left in Provo on purpose--some of it I just didn't want any more, and that's ok because I worked for it, I bought it, and I decided that I didn't want it anymore. Some of it I left because I want to have it to come back to, because I still haven't accepted that this move might (might) be permanent. Some of it I left because it just didn't fit on the truck. And that's the stuff I miss the most. My swing set. I want my swing set back. Nobody else is going to take care of it and play with it the same way I would. Nobody else's husband sold a gun and worked for weeks to build it. Nobody else spent months checking KSL everyday to get a slide for it. Nobody else searched the internet for months for the best deal on climbing rocks. Nobody else knows the work and fun that that swing set brought me because it's mine. It's my stuff. It's my stuff and I want it.
So no, my stuff is not just stuff that can be picked up and left at will with no thought. My stuff is not just a pile of things I use for a short time and then leave. My stuff is mine. It's a part of me. And that stuff that got left behind: I think about it just as much as I think about the people that I left behind. The only difference is that the people will send me Christmas cards and the stuff with sit and rot and be uncared for and it's hard to take because it's mine and it's my work and my independence that goes with it.
I am feeling the same way. We moved in with Raimo's parents-- I am now using all their stuff, and my stuff is boxed away. I was telling myself it would only be boxed for a little while, that I will see it again soon, but I am missing it and now I am a leech just like you.
ReplyDeleteHope the move is going well
"And now I am a leech just like you." WOW.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry you had to leave some of your stuff behind. When you put it in these terms I can see so much better why you miss your swing set more than me. ; )
Really, though, I get it, and I'm sorry.
How's the move, aside from this? Were you introduced to Irene? (I hope not.)
Love you!
Well Heather, a leech is exactly what I was hoping you WOULD NOT feel like, but I know that I would feel exactly the same way. I'm not going to say anything inspirational because I know you've heard it all, and you're working it out. Either way, you're a strong person, and by strong I mean, that the fact that you are eight months pregnant and getting up each day with your child, loving him, caring for him and your husband, opening up boxes, making your home; you're getting through it, you are still going, you are still functioning and it doesn't matter if you have a good attitude or not, you are still doing it. That is something, and one way or another, you'll have a home soon whether it be here or there, you'll know soon enough, and what is meant to be will be. (that wasn't inspirational was it? Hope not, I really tried to not be).
ReplyDeleteAnd I LOVE every time I get to see that sweet little scrawny, blond nephew of mine. Each moment is a treat that puts a smile on my face. Each little word that comes out of his mouth is the cutest thing I've ever heard. It's my first time being around the little guy for more than a day or two and I love it! Even if you guys are only here for a year and hate it, It will have been worth it to me just to have spent time with you guys and to see my sweet little nephew.