A phrase that comes up time and time again when reading one of my favourite magazines- English Home, is : "I don't have anything too precious."
The homeowner on one hand is meaning he/she doesn't have a lot of breakable, expensive, nice things
that could be broken by visitors. On the other hand maybe he/she has already dispersed precious keepsakes.
Either way it's not my way.
When thinking about the future and what I will eventually do with all my "stuff", I realize my major problem is I have too much stuff and it's all precious- to me at least. I know when I shuffle off to the great beyond nobody will want this stuff.
That's a shame.
Much of it is family stuff.
A clock from my Dad's Dad- my Grandfather.
A charcoal photo of my Grandmother and her brother.
A rocking chair from Lottie- my Mum's Mum and her China set with it's 22 ct gold trimmings.
There's more but I'd be here all day listing the items including a Santa Claus from Christmas 1963 given to me by my Grandmother Lillian Reid. That furry Claus started my Santa Claus collection. HIs beard is a little ratty and yellowy all these decades later but he is still my favourite.
Maybe I can slip him away with me.
Comforting thought to say the least.
I'd better stop or I'll start bawling....
It's a conundrum.
Nieces and nephews have no interest.
The Mister and I have no kids.
Yes folks- I'm barren!
My Siblings have some stuff of their own so they don't need mine to add to their pile.
Do you worry about things like this?
As I start working my way through seventyhood, I seems I have the need to disperse these "precious" things- a plan even.
Not that I plan on going anywhere soon but there's that old adage-
Here today. Gone tomorrow.
Then the Mister has to deal with it.
He tells me not to worry about it.
"What will you care"- he says, "You'll be dead!"
I guess this means I won't have any of my "precious accoutrements in "Heaven" unless he sends them Canada Post Express to wherever I'll be. I must remember when I do leave to jot down a forwarding address. That would be helpful- wouldn't it?
Now that I think of it, if I stopped reading Obits from back home, I'd be better.
Every few weeks I search through the listings of those who have passed. Usually there's one or two folks I knew way back when- like the High School History Teacher Mr. Wilson whose class I never actually took but used to talk to frequently.
Probably because my cousin Jude babysat for he and his wife.
It's a strange place to be this 70 something.
I don't feel like 70 something but apparently the BC government has plopped me in the fragile senior category offering me my Senior "booster" Covid shot and imploring me to get a flu jab.
I've never had a flu shot.
Like the anti-vaxxers, I guess I feel I can beat the flu.
I am invincible.
Maybe what Dr. Henry here in British Columbia is saying to me is a wakeup call.
In person- like Cher, she might slap me across the cheek and say-
"Snap out of it!"
Ouch!!
