The House That Jack Built

The photo above is a picture of the tail end of a garage sale at the House That Jack Built. These are the odds and ends that weren’t sold. These are the things that were part of the memories that were built and or created inside that house. They are objects that might have once been of my affection.

Some of those were with us for the entire decade in which we lived in the house. Others were with us much longer. The old timers joined the band decades before and followed us from apartment to apartment and condo to house.

It may look like junk and or clutter to you but to me I see something else. There is the stroller that my first born traveled the world in. It is the same stroller that I pushed in wonder and amazement because the baby inside was mine. He was proof that my boys could swim and that life had changed in the most dramatic fashion.

There is more in that picture that catches my eye. There are pieces of my childhood and objects from a man’s first apartment. I can’t look at it without a flood of memories washing over me. It is a parade images and sounds of my past and a reminder of how hard decisions had to be made for the future I want(ed) to build.

And then there is this photo. Storage units filled with stuff. More memories and a million stories are stuffed inside these boxes. They are containers of clutter and creation. I stare at them now and try to remember if that is where I placed a few small objects and papers that I didn’t expect to need.

They were things that I didn’t want to get rid of. They are things that I need because there is merit and value to them. They are things that I didn’t expect to need until we moved out of the temporary housing we are in.

Who knew that the occasion would come in which I needed them sooner. It is more than a little bit frustrating to discover this. I know where they are located. I have the manifest that I put together just in case I needed something. Unfortunately they are buried deep inside the boxes. It would take a significant amount of time to recover them and they aren’t worth it.

Still that doesn’t negate the need for them today or the frustration I feel because they would be of great benefit. So I face a choice to remain frustrated to try to be extra resourceful.

I choose the latter. That frustration won’t make things better but a clever idea can and will. Besides the lesson that I have learned from all of this is that I was right about the lack of need for many of the things I own.

It is time to rid myself of more stuff. It is time to let go of more of the non essentials. I don’t think that I’ll worry about them all that much because they are just things of no particular sentimental value.

The House That Jack Built rests on other values than that.

• Saved: Life