Day 96: Possesion is Ninth-Tenths of What Law?

The tiny green bud vase that has lived on my kitchen windowsill for the last five years has gone AWOL. I'm guessing that A broke it while she was cleaning, but I haven't asked her yet. I'm not really sure I want to know.

In my childhood home, the vase sat on a shelf next to the kitchen sink. In the spring it was always home to a few sprigs of grape hyacinth or lily of the valley. It was the perfect size to show off those delicate stems. It still performs that duty.

You'd think I'd have learned by now not to get too attached to objects. A devastating house fire in 1996 left us homeless and virtually possessionless and solved my problem once and for all of what to do with the seriously ugly Christmas sweater S gave me. Sorry if you're reading this, S, but honestly, what were you thinking? Did that sequined and bejeweled gingerbread man really scream out my name from across the store?

After the initial shock of the fire wore off, I found it liberating to be devoid of stuff. Yes, I was sad about losing certain sentimental items and photos, but there was nothing to dust, nothing to manage, nothing to take care of except my four little children. When we moved back into our home a year later, it was a simple process of loading a few boxes into the back of a small truck. It was years before we had what could be deemed a proper junk drawer in our kitchen.

Of course, we've accumulated loads of stuff since. Our toy closet and our coat closet and our bookshelves are all overflowing, and D's closet bears a striking resemblance to the men's department at Barneys. But I look at most of these possessions with a dispassionate eye. I have little problem throwing things out. In fact, I've often thought that the best gift anyone could give me would be a dumpster. Are you listening, S?

I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be the kind of old lady who lives surrounded by a lifetime's worth of tupperware and newspapers. Every spring I'll tackle a big spring clean. And I'll always think of that sweet little vase, the one that summons up so many lovely memories.

I really hope it's not broken.