Collecting

Nobody else over 15 raised their hands when asked about collections.

I looked around the room at my family, gathered for a reunion and warming up with a get-acquainted game, and was surprised to be the only one admitting to something other than a key-chain collection.

I said I collected lighthouse figurines, which is only partially true. I also collect creches, salt and pepper shakers, photo books and pottery. Mostly as souvenirs from memorable places, also as gifts from those who've thought of me when they've been in memorable places.

Those who write the how-to-avoid-clutter articles in the January start-the-new-year-right magazines would not approve of my office. Here I have collected a life's worth of souvenirs from memorable events -- pictures from beautiful places, shells from beaches all over, books from college, letters from friends, rocks from trails, heirlooms from grandparents. There's a sheep-skin rug from New Zealand friends over 30 years ago, a decorated duck egg from a sweet door-to-door sales woman that I just couldn't bear to say no to 20 years ago, a sand castle from an impulse purchase 15 years ago, a China doll from an uncle 40 years ago.




My life and loves and memories in one space.


This is not clutter however. This is celebration.


Celebration of the experiences of the past. Of the people I've met, the places I've been, the things I've felt and seen and learned.


I love going into others' homes. Seeing what they hang on their walls and what they set on their mantles tells me so much about them, their interests, their lives, their loves.

Everybody has collections. Maybe not of spoons or bottles or salt and pepper shakers, but of life's important moments and memories. And while I have to admit I can't take the ones on the shelf with me, hopefully they're representative of the intangible ones I can.