SELF-PITY TIME

           It probably has something to do with my mental state which is the result of the pandemic, the shingles diagnosis, and maybe the medication, but when I was writing the Kenyan Safari, Post II, it occurred to me that none of the photograph albums or scrapbooks I’ve done over the last 50+ years are probably the least bit important in the long run.

Yes, I’ve kept photos of my parents and grandparents and other family over the years. I’ve even gone so far as to identify who is who and the year on the back. What’s going to happen to them once I’m gone? Is anyone going to really want to have them or even bother to go through and see if there’s anything they’d like to have. Especially when it comes to family and friends my sons never even met…what would be the point of hanging on to a photograph of Great Uncle or Aunt whoever? And, even then, say AJ and Thor want some of them, will Haley or Xander really give a rat’s ass once their father’s have passed on as well?

So many times when I’ve gone to antique stores and malls, I’ve seen really old photos that must have been important to someone at some point in time. At that point, they are for sale for pennies on the dollar or just being given away. The people and the memories that kept them alive are long gone and no one, including the person doing the selling, has any idea as to where or when or who. It always made me very sad. Now, I’m being sad on my very own behalf.

 I know that Haley will remember me far into the future because she grew up having Nana close by and doing things like shopping, plays, movies, holidays and birthdays together. She’ll also remember Pa because she was almost 18 when he died. Xander, on the other hand, isn’t going to remember Grandpa at all because he was only five when Grandpa died. It’s also likely he’s not going to remember his Nana because I haven’t seen him but twice, maybe three times, this entire year. With the pandemic, who knows when I’ll be able to take him to the zoo or have him overnight again. I may be such a stranger by then he won’t want to go anywhere with me.

I’ve also been to those estate sales and garage sales where they’ve hired a company to come in and price and sell the stuff. In most cases, the people who lived there have died and the children don’t want much of anything out of the house. Perhaps if I arrived early in the day, I wouldn’t see what a mess of everything the buyers have made of a variety of stuff, i.e., books, puzzles, bedding, towels, dishes, papers…if you can think of it, I’ve seen it in a big mess.

That’s one of the reasons I wanted to have a big garage sale and eliminate everything I could that the kids didn’t want. I don’t want to have strangers come in here and price stuff and then have dozens and dozens of strangers come through handling everything that’s meant something to me over the years. I can't explain how doing it my own self would be different, but somehow it would.

Still, it’s just stuff, right? The only problem is that I can take you through my house and in almost every instance I can tell you where or from whom a particular item came. I’ve kept these things a lot of times because they were gifts from people whom I cared about. When I’m gone, no one will remember who gave me what.

Okay, yes, I think I’m wallowing in a huge vat of self-pity as I write this, but it’s exactly how I’m feeling right now. And, I know I won’t continue to wallow for too long because it’s no fun, especially when there isn’t someone nearby who can hug me or offer me a Kleenex to dry my tears…but you have absolutely no idea how hard I seriously wish there was someone to comfort me.

Anyway, I have a good friend that when she heard about shingles, offered to send me a big ladder when I’m ready to climb my way out of a vat of self-pity were I to end up there. I actually didn’t think I would...just goes to show she knows me pretty well. I responded to her email by writing I hoped the ladder would be brought by several of those hunky firemen who pose for those calendars…that would almost make this worth it, and surely lift my spirits and bring a huge smile to my face. But, that’s not likely, so I’m just going to have to CHOOSE to get over this. I’m sure tomorrow’s post will be much more positive.