THE THINGS WE KEEP
BY DR. NURIT ISRAELI
“The heart, like the mind, has a memory. And
in it are kept the most precious keepsakes.”
– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Look around you:
– Are there any treasured keepsakes from
your past, mementos you have been holding
on to for years that you can’t bear to part with,
even as you try to downsize?
– What is the emotional significance of these
inanimate objects? What makes them special?
What memories do they hold? What makes you
cherish them above all others? What makes
you take them along with you from one home
to the next?
– What do your choices tell you about
yourself?
Three years ago, we moved to North Shore
Towers. It was a major downsizing. I was ready
to move onward, and I assumed that my state
of readiness would make the transition easy.
Little did I know. Letting go of our home was
harder than I anticipated. We had lived there
for 42 years. The children grew up there. Every
corner was soaked in memories.
I was determined to travel light to our smaller
new apartment, so decisions needed to be
made regarding our belongings: What can
be left behind? What do I really need now?
What should I take along for this late leg of
the journey?
I didn’t know how hard it would be to part
with physical objects that bear witness to my
story. Going through belongings felt like going
through chapters of my life – a form of life
review: Decades of memories were intertwined
with these belongings. They reflected parts of
who I was and where I came from. They included
mementos reflecting my parents’ history as well
as my children’s years of growing up.
I was delighted whenever the children or the
grandchildren wanted to take things – any tangible
reminders of their roots. I gave the children
boxes filled with things from their early years:
old report cards, articles published in school
newspapers, toys – like my son’s impressive
collection of Legos and my daughter’s favorite
dolls. We also opted to leave things behind for
the buyers of our home: The house needed some
continuity, as it was getting ready to align itself
with a new family story. We needed to pass the
baton, and we wanted the new owners to feel
welcome.
Decisions had to be made about the rest of
our things. There were rounds of going through
belongings, moving back and forth from room to
room. I kept on telling myself: memories remain
in the heart; those objects that inhabited our
past are just things. But still, they represented
textures of yesteryears, evidence of lives lived,
and I had a hard time letting go.
Truly? Until I began packing, I did not realize
the number of sentimental items I had been
holding on to. Neatly organized in boxes, there
were photos, the children’s school projects, files
from each trip we took – with maps and notes,
hundreds of letters, and so much more. Although
these keepsakes lived in boxes, I loved to visit...
Planning to pack, I spent hours going through
boxes of mementos: they took me back in time
to experiences of deep significance, prompted
calls to old friends, inspired the writing of new
poems, elicited journeys inward...
Every decision became a mirror: I learned
about myself via my choices. Items tethered to
meaningful memories were hardest for me to
release. Eventually, I gave my heart veto power
over my head. In other words, I gave myself
permission to hold on to mindfully curated sentimental
items, often opting for meaning over
practicality. I realized something I suspected: It
is sometimes harder to let go than to hold on.
For example, I could not let go of my office
chair. I used it in my psychology home office for
many years while seeing patients. It absorbed so
many life stories, witnessed so many moments
of insight, was present through so many transformations.
How could I leave it behind? Well,
it came along and now adorns our living room,
creating my favorite reading space.
Gradually, I moved over to the “To Be Kept”
pile: all boxes of letters (how can I discard letters
from loved ones?); my absolutely favorite books
(it was painful enough to let go of the major bulk
of our book collection...); photo albums (I chose
to take only ten, the rest are resettled in our son’s
basement...); my mother’s recipe boxes (Just
looking at them prompts the delicious aromas
of her kitchen...); a box of my school report
cards, school notebooks, and drawings from
when I was a girl (my parents never let go of
these...); mementos from my military service;
notes from all courses and workshops I have
taught throughout the years (five boxes...), a
pillow my granddaughter made for me years
ago. I added to the pile curls from the children’s
first haircuts, my daughter’s first dress (made by
my mother), cards and notes triggering memories
of special events (like a note I received
from my-then-secretary to call my son – he
was calling to let me know of his admission to
medical school). I did plan to discard my collection
of bottles filled with a variety of sands
from beloved beaches all over the world. They
actually stared at me for several days from a “To
Be Trashed” pile, but eventually I pulled them
back. I remember trying to convince myself:
these items don’t take too much space; there
is no harm in keeping them; taking pictures
of them is not the same... I resolved to remove
piles of clothing from shelves in a new closet:
they could be replaced, and I preferred to use
the space for bins filled with my mindfully
chosen mementos.
Bill Shapiro, the former editor-in-chief of
16 NORTH SHORE TOWERS COURIER ¢ November 2020