Created by Beth using ChatGPT
I started The Ten Things I Can’t Live Without series as an opportunity for reflection. My goal was to have a bit of fun with it. What surprised me, though, was discovering that I was also developing an appreciation for certain items simply because they make my life easier. That realization led me to wonder if I should also look at a different category altogether - items with sentimental value.
To review, here’s the list of items I’ve looked at so far and decided to keep:
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Vehicle (KEEP)
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Cell phone (KEEP)
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Computer (KEEP)
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Printer/Copier (KEEP)
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Kitchen “stuff” (KEEP)
When I think of sentimental items, I think of photo albums; saved artwork and stories our three children created over the years; the fishing rod that belonged to my dad; a small glass basket that belonged to my mom; and the recipes my maternal grandmother collected over time.
The fishing rod lives in one of my dresser drawers, the one filled with odds-n-ends (not the kitchen junk drawer). I hadn’t thought about it since packing it away in 2022 while preparing for our move from California to Minnesota in 2023. Just last week, while rummaging in that drawer, Joe held up the collapsible rod and asked, “Why do you have this?” He assumed it was one of the rods his dad had given him years ago. My response was immediate and emotional. “No! That was my dad’s!” I teared up, and Joe dropped the rod back into the drawer like it was on fire.
I’ve been holding on to that rod since 1989, when my dad died at the age of 53. While it’s been tucked away, I always knew it was there. I’m still not ready to pass it along to anyone else. Well… maybe one of my brothers could have it someday. I assume they already have their own, though, and for now I still need it tucked safely in that drawer.
It’s the same with the small glass basket that belonged to my mom. And with the letter she wrote to me in 1974, when I married and left Ohio for California. That letter has lived in various dresser drawers over the years. Two or three times a year I come across it, stop, and read it. The emotion I feel is just as intense as it was the very first time I read it on my wedding night in 1974.
Our children’s stories and artwork stir up those same intense feelings. Most of them are tucked into a box in the upstairs hall closet. Every few years I pull it out and spend time revisiting their childhood work. Those memories are precious.
While writing this, I realized I’ve also held on to a few pieces of my own childhood writing. There’s a play I wrote in sixth grade, handwritten on old blue, smudged mimeograph paper. (For those unfamiliar, the play was “mimeographed” so each performer could have a copy to practice their parts. Our teacher even encouraged us to perform it in front of the class.) I also have a short story I wrote in seventh grade that placed second in an area-wide contest. I have a vague memory of reading it aloud to an audience of other middle school students in a hall at Defiance College.
Part of me thinks I should just toss those stories. It’s unlikely my daughter will want them, and they’re certainly not of any historical significance. And yet… I’m not ready to let them go. I’m not entirely sure why.
The good news is that we have plenty of storage, so holding on to these things isn’t a hardship for us.
And the photo albums? They’re staying. My kids can toss them someday. I can’t bring myself to let the visual history of the people in my life, many of whom have passed on, fade away.
This little detour into sentimental things wasn’t part of my original plan when I started the Ten Things I Can’t Live Without series. But recent events, particularly the death of Renee Nicole Good, have a way of nudging reflection in unexpected directions. Some items are useful. Some items make life easier. And some items quietly remind us of who we are, of where we’ve been, and of who loved us along the way. For now, those things can stay tucked into drawers and boxes, quietly waiting for me to visit as needed.
