Never have I been so humbled by my attachment to stuff than most recently when my husband shared with me his most recent loss. I lose things all the time. Sleep deprivation and a soon-to-be toddler require me to be more cognizant of where I place (or shall I say MISplace things). Most of the time the item is something insignificant and replaceable. I have to stop and confess that while we were in Vienna 2 years ago I lost my husband’s digital camera. It was most upsetting because our pictures of Bratislava and Vienna were not yet downloaded onto our laptop. Those memories are simply shared experiences between my husband and I that are tucked away into the alcove of our minds.
The day before Mother’s Day my husband gifted me with a beautiful necklace (which included my son’s birthstone) from my favorite jewelery store. It is perfect and so fitting to have a special semblance of my son close to my heart.
I came home from work that night as I do most nights, physically and emotionally exhausted…and HUNGRY! Hence patience and acceptance did not exude from within me. After we ate and put our son to sleep my husband asked me if I wanted my gift early since I would have to work the next day. That sounded agreeable so my husband went into the other room to get my gift. He then proceeded to tell me he had some good and bad news and which one did I want first? The good, of course, was my Mother’s Day gift (not sure if that counts as “good news” but as I soon learned it was to soften the blow of the “bad news”). The bad was that he had lost something very significant to both of us…to our marriage. I was torn with emotion…angry that he had spoiled the innocence and beauty of my gift…sad that ultimately he would have to live with the pain and regret of not being responsible for something so precious…touched that he had been so thoughtful about my gift.
I sat down over and over again to write down how I felt about the whole thing (writing is cathartic that way). I stopped each time, overwhelmed with one emotion…anger. For days (well, maybe longer but we’ll stop at days) I pleaded and pestered my husband to try and remember the details surrounding the loss. I had him make repeat phone calls sadly to no avail. Like the stages of grief we came to accept the fact that it was gone. I realized that yes the item he lost was special, unique, and symbolic. I also realized that like everything else in life, it was replaceable…no matter how difficult it would be.
Stuff is still just stuff…that breaks, gets lost, rusts and turns to dust. It’s all about perspective and this week mine was wrong.
So this week I’m changing my perspective. Doesn’t Natalie Grant sum it up perfectly?
Someone who knows my soul
A safe place to lay my head at night
So why do I forget
How much I’ve been blessed in life
Forget what means the most to me
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