stage five

 We changed our decor a bit yesterday. Really just a rearrangement of what we already have. The results are quite pleasing to me. Different certainly but will soon become familiar. Isn't when we become too familiar with our decor that we tend to change it? At the risk of sounding sexist I think that is what happens with most women anyway, guys would just leave everything in the same spot until it rots! Now, that's not a hard and fast rule, I've even been known to initiate a change. Anyway, getting up this morning and sitting at my computer I am in a familiar place. My stuff is around  me, it's a bit cluttered, not neat as a pin, as the saying goes, lived in. 

 Every time you rearrange things it draws your attention to those things. You know what I mean? You have seen these items many times but they look somehow new. Picking each item up and dusting it off so to speak, the memory of that item comes alive. I began to notice that I've moved a great many of these things, many times. Amazing how the time goes by. I remember taking that picture and framing it. That was ten years ago. I have things that came from my parents house. Those things have been with me most of my life. I even have things that belonged to Great Grandfather and others that are far older than myself. The thing is all those things bring a measure of comfort. Material objects holding sentimental value. How can you place a value on sentiment? Sentiment is a self indulgence we allow to ourselves. It has no value to anyone else, unless they themselves assign that value. The challenge for most of us is to transmit that value to another, the hope being they will preserve them. But what we want preserved are the memories more so than the object. We all want our memories kept alive.  

 I was thinking about all of that as I admired our new decor. Yes, it was the same old stuff, just arranged differently. It was that realization that inspired this writing. I'm not an interior decorator or anything like that. I don't really pay attention to other peoples homes. What I mean is, I don't really judge their decor, I either decide I like it or not. You know what I mean? The decor either makes you feel comfortable or not. At least that is the way it is with me. I would assume that is the purpose of hiring an interior decorator, to create an atmosphere. Decor is also the setting of a stage and our homes are our stages. I'm beginning to think my setting is museum. I wonder if it is that way with us old folks. The vast majority of the " set " are the trappings of my past. Now when I say my past, that includes my wife's stuff as well. A few days ago I wrote about being the proprietor of the past, perhaps a better choice would be curator. 

 Is that the final stage in life? Curator? I googled that and the accepted answer seems to be there are four stages. The first being play, imitation, and education. The second is, self discovery, enterprise and early adulthood. Three, dedication and contemplation. And lastly there is retirement, wisdom and renunciation! That's what the experts say. I'd say I'm in stage four, I am retired, I have wisdom, the only thing left is renunciation. I haven't a clue what I going to renounce! Do I need to renounce something? Hmm, I didn't see any mention of curator. 

  It is sort of ironic isn't it? You spend your life gathering these objects and memories. Then when you finally retire, you have the time to do what you want, not necessarily what you need, you do what? Curate your past. But I suppose that is a natural part of the cycle. A beginning and an end to everything, everything but time. Time marches on. And for that reason I'm enjoying the parade. I do like to rearrange the order of the parade every now and again, make it fresh. So, it's a good thing. I'm still adding " floats " to the parade. Every now and again we need to strike up the band. 

 I have fond memories of my grandparents homes. I can close my eyes and see those rooms. All the sights, sounds and smells are stored in my memories. Things stayed the same in their homes. I don't remember either of them ever rearranging a thing. If I was asked about an object I could tell you exactly were to find it. The clock on the mantle, the rocker in the parlor, where the coal bucket sat. The same pictures hung on the wall, curtains the same. Surely they must have moved things, but I never noticed. Maybe I just remember the things in the parade and the order wasn't important. Yes, that must be it. I hope my grandchildren enjoy my parade and remember it with as much fondness as I recall my grandparents home. I think the secret to that is being a good curator. 

 Those experts say the final stage is renunciation. I'm thinking they are mistaken. It's curator. I'm hoping to be a curator for a very long time. A curators job is not only to preserve the objects but to educate. That's sounds a lot better than renouncing things! I'm the senior curator, just don't tell my wife I said that. It's a responsibility I accept willingly. I welcome it. Stage five, curator.