Priorities

By Sally Franz

I have moved at least twenty-four times in the last forty years. It gets easier as you go. And you’d be amazed at what you are willing to throw out after forty years. The smaller a place you are in, the more you have to toss. It’s all about priorities. Ask yourself, what must I have to function and what can I live without?

I do have a few things that will just have to wait until my kids go through my belongings after I’m long gone. I can only guess I will have them in stitches, rolling on the floor, holding up a rock or a bead screaming with delight, “Look what Mother left you in her will. Bwa-haha.” Never mind the rock was pilfered from the Nile quarry where they made Cleopatra’s Needle or the bead was from my stay living with the Mesquakie Tribe one summer. I am pretty sure my greatest treasures will look like landfill to them.

Oh, I have owned expensive art and sculptures in my day. Not “name-brands” from Sotheby’s but I figure if you can find them on E-Bay, hey that must count for something. Hummel figurines, numbered prints, porcelain from Denmark, and woven rugs from the Far East come to mind. Of course to be honest, most of the good stuff has long since been pawned. It’s a no-brainer if you have the travel-bug: gold Tiffany earrings you waltz out every other Christmas versus a trip to Venice. Bye-bye earrings, ciao Venice.

I have given away almost all of my books (many signed by the authors) because my kids will not know or care that a book made me cry or laugh or changed my political views. All my dwindling keepsakes will be, for them, a gruesome pile of stuff to heave. I should probably just stuff big garbage bags in the boxes to make it easier.

I’d like to think that my grandchildren may ask where I have lived but they will not really care. Ho-ho-kus, New Jersey; Simsbury, Connecticut; Tulsa, Oklahoma; Oxnard, California; Portland, Oregon; Tarboro, North Carolina; New York City…none of these places, memories or mementos will register as vital to my story. But oh, how each place molded me and forced me to see people as individuals not groups.

Other things I should toss sooner than later include all the clothes, shoes, and hats I just had to have and that now sit in the back of my closet like students in detention hall. I am tempted to join the minimalist group that says you should be able to get by with just 40 items of apparel. If I were in New York it would be easy. Every single thing in black.

But the truth is I can’t quite toss my brightly colored things yet. They make me happy and that is my current priority. So along with stones and beads, my kids will have to toss my magenta felt hat from Bogotá, my blue tweed Irish cap from Dublin, my kelly-green jeans, my hot pink scarf, and my red cowboy boots. Come to think of it, they are probably so sick of seeing me in these items that I should just include a pack of matches.

Yup, moving on down the road means saying good-bye to friends, belongings, and tchotchkes. But one thing is for sure, I am taking my comfy feather pillow to the grave and beyond. A person has to have priorities.

Sally Franz and her third husband live on the Olympic Peninsula. She has two daughters, a stepson, and three grandchildren. Sally is the author of several humor books including Scrambled Leggs: A Snarky Tale of Hospital Hooey and The Baby Boomer’s Guide to Menopause. She hosts a local radio humor segment, “Baby Boomer Humor with Sassy Sally”.