Worth a Thousand Words

Occasionally I think about how it might be nice to start life over somewhere else without any possessions. Sometimes I feel like I’m defined by my “stuff”. Wouldn’t it be interesting to show up in a new location with nothing but the clothes on your back and the skills you possess? Despite the sense of freedom and release that this might offer, I’ll bet that there is one thing you just couldn’t give up.

For me, the one thing – well actually the many things – that I simply couldn’t part with are the numerous images I’ve collected.

I have pictures that I’ve taken, pictures I’ve been given by my grandmother, and very old pictures of past generations of my family. I have photo books, photo boxes, and just loose photos laying all over. I have drawings that I did, drawings from my sister, and various paintings. I have a really neat framed picture I took of Dana Point Harbor in San Clemente, California during a vacation there.

The image above is of a painting that hangs over the fireplace in my den. The painting features a herd of Hereford cattle grazing in a pasture at the foot of a mountain. It used to belong to my grandfather. It always hung over the head of his bed. It reminds me of him and all of the times I “helped” him do his chores, feeding the cattle, planting his fields, and doing odd jobs around the farm. I, of course, was there mostly as moral support because I was usually too young to help much, but I’ll always remember the great conversations we had as I got older, riding along with him in his pickup truck.

If you hadn’t noticed, there is a photo tucked into the left corner of the frame. This is a photo of me at about age 2 sitting on my great grandfather’s lap. This would have been the father-in-law of my grandfather, who owned the painting. I have only a few memories of my great grandfather, but I do remember that he taught me to chew gum (prior to age 3!).

I have discovered that the most enjoyable moments in my day are often those that let me remember some past experience I’ve had, and relate that experience back to that moment. I’ve done this many times with my favorite bloggers, I do it each time I listen to my favorite radio program, and I’m constantly doing the same thing with these images that are so present in my life. Each time I come home and sit down in my den, this painting brings back all of these great memories.

If you suddenly started over with little or no “stuff”, what would you miss the most?