I don’t want to be morbid, but the reality is that someone’s going to have to go through all of my stuff one day – yours too – and I’ve been thinking about what I’m leaving behind.
There must be a story that goes with it but I never heard it. Perhaps it was an inside joke about something that happened at work. Who knows?
I’ve never minded sorting through stuff. In fact, I’ve offered to help others with the task because it can be overwhelming. But I also realize that not everyone is like me, and so I’m determined to try to travel lightly from now on. I’m going to divest myself of a bunch of things that really don’t matter to me. I’m an anti-clutter nut, it’s true, but I also have my share of plastic bins packed away. I’ve shoved old letters from forgotten beaus into shoe boxes and I wouldn’t want someone to find them without me being here to say they mean nothing to me. I don’t want the remnants of my life to tell a story that wasn’t true. There should be no misunderstandings. And if a frog attacks, I’m darn sure going to let someone know.