Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Thing. Just things.

I never realized just how hard it is to live without my things until I didn't have anything except, literally, the clothes on my back, a couple of changes of underwear, and some basic makeup items.

You see, I took very few things with me the day I left because I believed I would be able to come back at any time and pick up the rest of my belongings. After all, my husband did convince me to just separate temporarily. He said, "Don't tell your family about the divorce. Don't get a lawyer, yet. Just wait it out, ponder and pray about it and then we'll meet back together at your next therapy (in 5 days) appointment. At that time, we can then discuss divorce or reconciliation." Why he was planning on attending MY therapy session is a story for another day. The point is, I left the house that day without my most of my things.

To be completely honest, I don't have very many things, though. I've never had a plethora of money to spend frivolously and I've never been someone who hordes junk. In fact, I regularly (every year actually) go through my storage boxes. I toss out anything that hasn't been used or looked at during that year and I throw away any paper or gadget that has lost it's sentimental value to me. I do this because 1. I hate clutter 2. I see no point in keeping something that isn't being used. 3. Very few things hold enough sentimental value to me to keep around.

Don't get me wrong, I do adore gifts from other people. It makes me feel loved and wanted. I remember every gift I was given, from every person, and when I received it. The reality is, very few items make it to the keep-forever-and-a-day pile.

I understand there are a lot of people who just can't, no matter what, get rid of anything because everything, it seems, has strong emotional ties. I get it, I tolerate it, and I usually don't even mind if other people do it. I just never have been like that. So, after I was served divorce papers (at my therapy appointment) and was forbidden from entering into my in-laws home to retrieve my things, I was somewhat mystified when I realized how attached I had suddenly become to my things. And I found an extreme loss at not being allowed to retrieve them.

My family, thank goodness, helped me out by restocking my personal hygiene items, gifting me with an occasional piece of jewelry, and taking me out to buy a few new articles of clothing every now and then so that I would have some basic necessities. But after only a few short days of being without, I found myself longing for my closet full of shoes. I missed my piano, books and sheet music. I longed for my P90X DVD set. Daily, I grumbled under my breath that I had no running shoes, multiple outfits to choose from, and sadly, I even pined after my home decor, even though I had no home of my own in which to display it. I realize this was silly, yet it's how I felt.

Well, last week (almost a year after I left) my old things and I were reunited once again. What a happy reunion! I had a entire trailer load of stuff my husband was claiming to 'give back' to me. I must say, I was somewhat disappointed at what I found while sorting through these things. Only about 1/4 of everything located in the trailer was actually mine. Some of it I recognized as items belonging to my in-laws (junky dinnerware, utensils, goblets, shelves). Some where things I knew belonged to my husband. And some I had never seen before in my life. Some items, actually, still had prices tags from a thrift store attached to them. It was as if they had cleaned out an entire room full of junk and pawned it off on me, in a hope that they could claim they split our assets evenly. Incredible! And ridiculous! What I found even more astonishing, was that not all of my possessions made it back to me.

Like I said before, I really do remember every gift that was ever given to me. So, while I am happy beyond belief that I now have a choice in which shoes to put on, I am acutely aware of the glaring fact that I am still attached to those other things I didn't get back.

No comments: