Placing Significance on Insignificant Stuff

A lifetime of thingamajigs, doodads and gizmos.  Collections of curios and curiosities.  Some hidden from view, but all put in place by my grandparents.

In the last eight months I have been helping my mother clean out over sixty years of life from my grandparent's home.  If it is humanly possible, I have felt every imaginable emotion.  It is also rather surprising how deeply moved I feel about this home.  Each time I visited and worked, many items followed me home.  Some were out of necessity (sweeper, light bulbs, etc.) but others, many others, were because they hold dear and strong memories (record albums, chairs, etc.).

At first it felt like we would never even make a dent in the drawers, shelves and closets.  But bit by bit, step by step, we slowly made progress.  I must admit, my mother did most of everything.  I helped though, as much as I could.  But there were so many items that seemed insignificant, and yet, it is hard not to place significance on these items.  Why do we do this?

Before the casket was closed for the last time, a little beanie baby bear, a can of coke and a jar filled with a Manhattan were added with love around Ray.  It felt reminiscent to the burials of the Egyptians.  All that was missing was gold, jewels and a dead animal or two.

As I laughed with my mother over crazy things that Ray kept in his home, I realized that I too place significance on insignificant objects.  Did I want the bar light from Ray's basement?  Of course!  We do not have a bar, nor do we have an appropriate place to put it.  What about a hammer for small nails?  Sure!  In fact, when we repainted the bathroom this came in handy.  How 'bout brown paper bags, rubber bands, ten rolls of clear tape, calculators, note cards, stuffed animals, a stereo, etc.  The list goes on and on.  And the thing is, I cannot tell you that any are insignificant to us.

But no matter how many insignificant (or significant) things one surrounds themselves with, it does not take the place of a person.  The girls each took a stuffed animal from Ray, and quite often I see Evie take hers and inhale it.  It still smells like Ray (which to clarify smells very good).  Today I found myself doing the same thing.  I was at my moms and Emma and I were sitting on the couch she traded with the one at Ray's.  We were being silly, and we picked up the pillows to hide our mouths to see if we could determine expression on our mouths.  We both inhaled at the same time and went, "ah...".  It smelled like Ray. It smelled like home.  It was significant.