Thursday, September 9, 2010

Possessions

My friend Jenny posed the following question on our Frederick listserve the other day: Which of your possessions truly bring you joy? It was a hypothetical question, meant to inspire discussion, but suddenly that question has become very important to me.

The City of Boulder has issued a warning that residents in my neighborhood should "prepare for possible evacuations." This afternoon, I contacted my friend Jen, who lives in Castle Rock, so we would have a place to stay should we need to flee; dug up all of our birth certificates and passports; moved the propane tanks to the east side of the yard; pulled out the cat carrier and placed it by the door; packed an overnight bag for me and the girls; and then filled the trunk of the minivan with photo albums and kicked myself for not taking Mike up on the offer to scan all of my old photos.

I'd like to say I looked around and found that I really don't need anything else and, truthfully, as long as we are all safe, that is true. But a friend told me she feels that it's "scary to pack up all of your memories in a few bags." And that's what it is about stuff. It's not the actual things that I'm attached to, but the memories that go along with most of them. There's the guitar that I bought for Toby and the look on his face when I surprised him at Christmas. He usually doesn't like getting gifts but that one brought him so much joy. There's the painting that mom made of our porch at the house in Vermont. I'll never go to that house again and I love the memories that are attached to that view. There's the piano, my great-grandmother's, and all of my books, the watercolors my grandmother collected on a round-the-world tour, the girls' artwork, the pink skirt that all three of them loved when they were two, and the dining room table that my grandfather made. The list goes on and on.

Ultimately, I think our neighborhood will be safe. We may have to evacuate if the winds continue to blow in our direction, but the fire would have to burn through three city blocks to get to our house. However, even having to contemplate this issue has brought me nearly to tears. My heart goes out to everyone who has lost their home, whether in the Four Mile Canyon Fire or in any other disaster. And a huge THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to all of the fire fighters up there right now.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

You reminded me of something my friend Pete once said, after he had finally received the container of his belongings from oversease, where he had been stationed: "They're the things that remind me of who I am." I'm very, very glad all of your tangible reminders are safe (that pink skirt!). Please know you and your Boulder friends remain in hearts and minds across the country, and especially here in Frederick.
xx meg

sarah said...

You're so right about it being the memories that go along with the "stuff" that matter. Just in the past week I've decided to scan so many of my old pictures into the computer b/c in an emergency, there is no way 30 years of photo albums are making into the trunk of my car. And yet I can't imagine driving away from all those pictures and memories.

I'm so glad that the fire is nearing complete containment and that you're safe; I've been thinking of you all a lot in the past week and hoping that you'd not end up in a position to have to leave your home.

love to you all
xoxoxo