what endures

  As I walked through my home I notice some of the things that endure. I've noticed that they are often the smallest things, those things that seem insignificant at the time but they have endured over the years. The knick-knacks of life is a good name for those things. Each one holds a bit of a memory but doesn't tell the story, collectively however, they can define you. Eclectic is how I would describe it. Those items aren't a collection that much is certain as few are in a common vein. I wonder sometimes just what imparts that quality to an item, what force causes us to retain those things? They have little or no monetary value yet are invaluable to us. I wouldn't call them relics, relics should have more age to them in my thinking. Relics imply they are old and possibly outdated. My memories inspired by those items are neither of those things. They are just the things I have saved and learned to treasure over the years. Those items endure. 

 We often hear about people downsizing, especially we mature Americans. I have begun that process and am thinking that will take a number of years to accomplish. It's a difficult process to sort through your memories and decide which ones to discard. And I do believe each object does hold just a small portion of our story. At least the object we attach some memory too does. A man and his tools are prime examples of that. I have a good number of tools collected over the years, used for this and that. I haven't used a good number of them in years now, those days are fading away, but there is an attachment there and tools are hard to part with. Still, I wonder why I retain them. There is nothing special or unique about them, they are, as my wife would say, just old tools. There are also my past and I'm hanging on. But there are items that will one day be gone, downsized, and forgotten. It isn't that type of thing I'm thinking about this morning though. No, I am thinking about the little things like an pocket knife, an old postcard or a picture. An old footstool I made thirty years ago. There is the shaker shelf made from old pallet wood long before making things out of pallet wood was a thing. I used that wood because I couldn't afford to buy "good" wood. It wasn't an arts and crafts thing, it was a necessity. I needed the shelf. And that old shelf, imperfect as it is, hangs on my kitchen wall. There's the Cyprus clock that hangs at the end of the hallway. My dad gave me that piece of Cyprus wood over thirty years ago along with a gallon of epoxy. The wife and I made that clock together and it has endured the years, a fixture in our home. There are resin figures the grandchildren bought at the dollar store, one proclaiming me the best grandpa ever and one of lady liberty. Worth more to me that a sculpture in an art gallery. Those are the things that I'm talking about.

 Enduring value is what concerns me most these days. Perhaps that is why the resistance to change, so common with us older folks. We have learned to place faith in the things that endure. Fad and fashion change all the time, but memories remain. Memories endure time. When we are gone all that remains will be our memory. The objects we leave behind will face downsizing. Only those objects with meaning to others will survive that process. Material value will play a role, can the item produce revenue of some type? When others view things as just, that old thing. it's fate becomes uncertain. I have picked up the trash at homes where the person was deceased and another came to clean it out. In the trash old photographs, books, and mementos cast aside. It is one of the saddest sights to see in my opinion. Impartial and unfeeling, completely detached, those items are silenced forever. They did speak to the owner at one time. My stuff reminds and informs me daily. It's where I have been. 

 I write my thoughts and stories in the hope that they will endure. I've noticed that few people want to hear about your "relics" and "treasures." They hold little interest to anyone else. Some will stick in the mind of your children and grandchildren and will be saved, but the story is often lost. I'm fortunate to have a couple old things from my grandparents and the story with them. I'm certain it is only a small portion of the story, but it leads to imagination. I do enjoy thinking about that on occasion. What the rest of the story may have been I mean. So I have taken to writing down what each object is and what the value to myself is. That is an effort to place value upon them to those that follow after me. My hope is they can then tell the story and so what has past, endures. I do believe as long as the names are spoken the people live on, they endure. I feel like I have resurrected a few! And that gives me hope for the future. Laura Rose, you are not forgotten, although you died at 16 and your story is unknown to me. Rest in peace Laura Rose. Her spirit has endured, I feel it. And in some way I hope I endure as well. I believe that is the hope of each of us, it is hope for the future. Even when the future in uncertain and unknown. " In the wild struggle for existence, we want to have something that endures, and so we will fill our minds." (Rodney A Winters)  I'd say we all realize there will come the day when we are gone, but I also believe we all wish to remain. Thing is, I'm certain we do not get to choose what is left behind, that is decided by others. One mans trash is another mans' treasure. The Bible says, " For where your treasure is, there your heart is also." My legacy will be what is retained by others, by what endures of my heart. Those items of no value, that are invaluable. A paradox?