one man's junk

  How much sentiment do you attach to objects? I would say I tend to attach sentiment to objects that were owned by others that I knew and loved, more than objects I have purchased for myself. It is those objects that I have concern for, after I'm gone. I have a few items from my youth that sit on a shelf in the corner or tucked away somewhere. I have discovered the older I get the more likely I am to pull those things out and display them. I guess it is a subconscious thing. I'm guessing the head doctors would have a theory about all of that. My theory is one of transference. I'm hoping others will see those things, ask about them, and attach some significance to them. That is what sentiment is all about, significance.

  You see I have this theory about all of this stuff. Maybe it developed after working for the town of Ridgely. As part of my duties, I was tasked with picking up what was called "rubble" in the alley's. Rubble was simply unwanted items of all types. There were a few restrictions, no major appliances, no hazardous waste, paint and that sort of stuff. Occasionally someone would pass away and their home would be cleaned out. There in the alley I would see "sentiment" being discarded. Old photographs, bris a brac, nick knacks, and other objects. World's greatest grandpa or drawings made by small children, that sort of thing may be included. Those objects having no sentimental attachment to the one discarding them. Just old junk.

  My theory about that stuff is a simple one. People are not attached to objects that belonged to people they never knew or loved. For that reason, they can, and will, unpassionately discard those things. Only if there is a monetary value to those objects will they be retained. Yes, one man's junk. Now it gets a bit more complicated than that. I have my sentimental objects that belonged to some of my ancestors and a few that belonged to friends. My children have never met any of those folks. All they know are a few stories I have told. The objects themselves they would have no attachment too, unless I develop an attachment for them through my displaying them, or explaining their significance. Even then, it is my feeling that the attachment will be tenuous, at best. And I am aware that not everyone attaches sentiment to objects as readily as I. 

 I do have stuff around that is sentimental to me that most would have discarded long ago. I do hesitate to discard things that were given to me. If it something I purchased myself I feel free to act as I want. It's not that way with gifts I have received. I feel like I should retain them. Well at least the durable goods that is. Every once in a while, I will clean out some of the clutter. Clutter are those objects that have lost their sentimentality or usefulness. That is what I would see in those alleys, only on a larger scale. I didn't just see clutter or junk; I often saw sentiment. I was always reminded of the story of the Velveteen Rabbit. Once treasured objects loved and admired by their owners now coldly discarded in the trash. No chance for them to become real, to live again. Their lives, their usefulness, their sentiment exhausted. Soon to be forgotten, forever. 

 What I'm thinking about, trying to say, is, when it comes time to pack up my life what objects go into the trunk? Yes, it bothers me that I don't get to choose. If I could I would be like the Pharoah's of Egypt and take it all with me. But I don't get a choice, someone else will make that decision. My life will be sorted through in the end and parts retained and parts discarded. 

 But do I have any one object that couldn't be purchased at any price? No, the honest answer is no. That isn't to say everything is for sale, just that everything does have a price. I'm not that much of an idealist. Sentiment is a wonderful thing, a comfort no doubt, but practicality enters the picture. You can purchase a piece of my sentiment but it isn't cheap! I mean, after all, I can't take it with me. Even if I did, someone would rob me and all I could do is lie there! They might even put my corpse on display in a museum somewhere. From sentiment to curiosity. That's the way it goes.