Growing Old; Growing Tired; Growing...

I cannot remember a time filled with more stress and strife than the past two months has thrown our way.  Nothing can compare with it.  Our stressful move is behind us, but the space we now live in is not sufficient for all of our belongings.  Much of what we own or have owned has either been given away, sold, donated or taken to the dump.

It makes one wonder why we hold on to so many things in the first place.  We think we need them, if mot now, then in some future (non-existent) time, but in the end, did we really?  The one major possession we parted with was our beautiful baby grand piano.  It was a heartache to watch them pack it up and wheel it out the door and onto the truck that would take it to its new home.  That piano was a birthday gift to me 14 years ago when we lived in Crooked River Ranch.  I loved that piano.  But, truth be known, my husband loved it more and it was truly his piano.  I saw the pain in his eyes as he sat down on the bench to play it for the very last time.

The second item I had to "let go" of was the dining-room table and chairs that I bought seven years ago when we lived on Jetty Avenue in Lincoln City.  I loved that table.  We donated it to the Deseret Industries when their pod was parked in our Church parking lot.  Quite convenient, I would say.

The third item was my beloved corner hutch that Dean bought me when we lived in Brooking.  I had it for 10 or 11 years.   Our sweet next-door neighbor bought it and it has a lovely place in her home.  She beamed when she showed me all of her treasures that she had displayed inside.

Last, was my Queen-size bed that I bought in St. George when I was single.  You can't sell or give away beds in this area, so we loaded it up on a truck and a friend drove it to the dump.  Part of me disappeared during this move, and now I am left with memories.

My office is filled with notebooks that I have filled with my attempts at writing; a box in storage is filled with my journals that have covered a span of 55 plus years of my life.  I started keeping a journal when I was in my 20's in Salt Lake City.  I keep telling myself that I will take upon myself the monumental task of abridging them one day, just as Mormon did when he abridged the records of the Nephite's which spanned a period of over 1000 years.  I thin my task is not quite as daunting.

I dislike the idea of leaving that task to my children, but, alas, I am growing old and I am growing tired.  If the Lord is testing me in the hope that I still have some "growing" to do, I hope I am able to complete it and that the test will be a short one.

Forgive my rambling, I just have much on my mind and I can't seem to come up with a plan to get over this mountain of "stuff".  I just can't bring myself to get rid of it.  It's funny...the decision to get rid of the big stuff was far easier...the little stuff is by far the hardest.  Perhaps one day, I will box up all the lovely gifts each of my children have given me over the years and save them for the time when they might want them back...to remember me by.

It's interesting how we save parts of past generations.  I have my great-great grandfather's life history, but nothing more; I had some of my grandmother's things, but have distributed them to some of the kids; and I have some of my mother's things that I doubt any of the kids will be interested in.  Most of what I have accumulated has no real value to anyone but me.  Life in this 21st Century has changed a lot of our values,.

I guess the bottom line is that I treasure my family and my faith in my Savior far above material possessions and those values have been passed on.

Thank you for persevering and reading this mixed up writing.  I will be glad when the things that clutter the floor in my office will find a home and I can get down to some serious writing.

                                                   Welcome home!