If you recall, at the beginning of the year I decided to make it my year of letting go. In addition to my near Sisyphean task of disposing of unneeded belongings, I also planned on letting go of some unwanted emotions.
Today’s emotion is brought to you through a note my son brought home after helping a friend’s parents move. He parked his car on a street and spent several hours on a thankless and difficult task only to come back to a note on his car scolding him for parking on a public street.
While I understand that the space in front of a house is prime parking for the residents of that home, it is also not a crime to park there unless the neighborhood requires permits and you don’t have that permit (which is the case in our neighborhood — but if you have a permit for the neighborhood you can park anywhere, even if it is not in front of your own house). I also understand that most of the homes in neighborhoods around here have no garages.
This note is probably 3 years old, and I am mostly over it, but when I came across it in my recent purge attempts it made me angry again so therefore I needed to write about and then destroy the note.
Sometimes when I think about my Grandma Patrick, I think of her as being a little uncaring — or at least feeling that I was not one of her favorite grandchildren. I then remember the time she gave me money to buy a tee-shirt that my mom would not pay for and then I find this note that probably contained more cash than I expected for my trip to England. I do think she used money for love sometimes, but maybe she thought she had to.
Just another object I am getting rid of after posting here.
Xmas 1978 To Dona Patrick, from Grandma Patrick
Have a very happy Christmas in England. We will all be missing you, but we will be thinking of you. Merry Xmas from us all. Grandma. Use this Gift where you most need it. Love Grandma.
She died about 5 years later. Okay, I am not throwing it away.
Not counting my personal ones, I have fourteen Bibles (actually most of them are just half the Bible) that belonged to one, now gone, family member or another. I have at least one for three of my grandparents, three that were my mom’s and four that were my fathers if you count the Bible that the funeral home gave us. I also have my mom’s brother’s New Testament that I will send to my cousin. My favorite is my Grandpa Green’s Mason Bible.
I read that Bibles can be thrown away with no ceremony, but I am uncomfortable doing so. I will probably put them in a box in the kneewall again, providing nourishment for the silverfish.
Or, they could be a Christmas decoration next year.