A while back, I read a story about a woman, who kept a pair of lingerie (I believe) for a special occasion. She never wore it, because no occasion was deemed special enough. In the end, her husband found the item in the dresser - unused - after the woman died. I don't remember, if it was an accident or cancer. (I tried googling the story, but a search for "woman's special panties" or "dead woman's panties" does not yield anything appropriate for this blog....) The husband ended up burying her in her special lingerie.
I could be that woman.
There are a number of things that live in a "special box" in my basement. They are special to me, but if I were to die today, nobody would know why. Since I have kept them hidden from sight, they are special - only to me.
That's sort of sad, when you think about it. After all, it's the sharing that makes stories and memories special.
Of course, I am not about to share the contents of my lingerie drawer with you!
But I need to share the special items and memories with the people I love, so that they can share those memories with me.
On the other hand...
There is a danger that comes with actually using those special things.
The may break!
Case in point:
Many, many years ago, my son made a little pillow at school. He drew (?) a picture of a Momma duck with a little duck - and his teacher transferred the picture onto a pillow. It was adorable!
My son slept with that pillow for many years. It was loved - and washed over and over again - and it suffered...
Then, a few years ago, my teenager removed the pillow from his room. Clearly, he had outgrown it - and it really didn't look all that good any more.
While decluttering the basement, I came across the pillow today. This is what it looks like now:
A sorry shell of its former self...
The little duck barely reflects the pillows former glory.
This is exactly what I am afraid of when we use these special items....
I wished I had taken a picture of the pillow when my son first came home with it.
But it's just stuff... The picture will remind us of the pillow's former glory. My son will probably be OK with throwing the pillow out. He's not quite as sentimental as his mother.