As the two of them discussed what they were going to shed, it hit me that what lives on after you go is the love, not the things. We all missed Chuck, but his costly possessions counted for very little with the rest of his family.
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and decay destroy, and thieves break in and steal. But store up treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor decay destroys, nor thieves break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be. - Matthew 6:19-21
1 comment:
Agreed, of course! I have noticed that some people when they are old will start to divest themselves of much of their 'stuff', I'm at that stage myself, realisation has dawned that much of it is meaningless. That doesn't mean it was always so and while a person is alive their 'stuff' is very important to them. A very good book on this subject is The Comfort of Things.
Here is the blurb:
What do we know about ordinary people in our towns and cities, about what really matters to them and how they organize their lives today? This book visits an ordinary street and looks into thirty households. It reveals the aspirations and frustrations, the tragedies and accomplishments that are played out behind the doors. It focuses on the things that matter to these people, which quite often turn out to be material things – their house, the dog, their music, the Christmas decorations. These are the means by which they express who they have become, and relationships to objects turn out to be central to their relationships with other people – children, lovers, brothers and friends.
If this is a typical street in a modern city like London, then what kind of society is this? It’s not a community, nor a neighbourhood, nor is it a collection of isolated individuals. It isn’t dominated by the family. We assume that social life is corrupted by materialism, made superficial and individualistic by a surfeit of consumer goods, but this is misleading. If the street isn’t any of these things, then what is it?
This brilliant and revealing portrayal of a street in modern London, written by one the most prominent anthropologists, shows how much is to be gained when we stop lamenting what we think we used to be and focus instead on what we are now becoming. It reveals the forms by which ordinary people make sense of their lives, and the ways in which objects become our companions in the daily struggle to make life meaningful.
btw One of my brothers in UK was an antiques dealer, as such he used to help a friend do house clearances after someone had died. Nearly everything went to the dump, perfectly good furniture the no one wanted, it would break his heart trashing a person's whole life, specially personal things but mostly whole photo albums, boxes of photos, it was nearly like you are erasing people from history. Difficult thing to write about.
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