The Pack Rat

We all seem to have a little “pack rat” in us. At least those of us born before consumerism became a blood sport. I admit I would have been a more vigorous consumer if I had been born with a credit card tucked in my diaper. Those good old days of unlimited, unsolicited credit came later in my life and I had already developed a conscience and fear about my obligations to my family like life insurance and a savings plan. DRAT!

I have a minimalistic taste in furniture and accessories. I don’t like knickknacks or clutter. Everything has to be stored out of sight, otherwise it “hurts my eyes”. HOWEVER, what was out of sight, was pretty significant, until I retired and had time to sort through boxes and bags and finally decide (admit) that I would never be a size 10* again, use a deep fryer,  need Christmas dishes, or 15 sets of sheets, (that’s just the tip of the iceberg). My daughter profited by my new found freedom from “things” and had a few very successful garage sales. In the process, I started to love an empty closet, empty drawers and empty cupboards. Retirement is nice that way. I don’t need to mull over my wardrobe everyday, trying to figure what is appropriate and once that’s established, if it still fits, and then, I do or don’t hate the colour on me. AH! Blessed relief, and confession IS good for the soul so… * size 12 or 14 for that matter! Get it?

But the pack rat in me is still alive and well. I enjoyed myself recently by helping friends empty their barn of furniture and a ton of flea market, garage sale-type items.  I had the time to sort it all out and send it along  to new homes: rummage sales, student apartments, the privileged, under privileged, whoever thought they needed something different. I call it recycling.  I even kept a few useful things, for awhile…

I have two nearly-new ironing boards. No takers.

I wish

Wishing is different than praying. It’s also different from hoping.  Wishing is self fulfilling, personal, whimsical, and thoroughly practical. I was trying to think of a substitute word for wishing, but I just couldn’t connect with any of them. I wonder if it has anything to do with the way we are raised, and if people every where are “wish-full”.

I do know that most people pray at some times of their lives, even if they profess to not believe in God.         I also know that a vast majority of people are hopeful in their daily lives.

But wishing? Wishing is different.

I wish I could be 35 again. A do over.

I wish my parents were here. I wish I had valued them more.

I wish I had stayed at home with my children and known that their childhood was such a  short, precious event.

I wish I had been more honest.

I wish I had told my friends that I loved them.

It’s wishful thinking. At this stage of my life, I find myself wishing only on rare occasions.

I still wish I could lose some weight, regain some dexterity, read more, but I accept what is. There’s nothing left to wish for. I have everything I need. My children, my husband, my friends, my home, comfort.

I pray more. Much more. Not much for myself, but for others.

And I hope more. I hope for a better world, less pollution and crime, better government, and more health care.

And so it goes…I hope and pray more, I wish less and I am so thankful to have lived long enough in my world where it could all play out at a natural pace. If I had one wish left, it might be: I wish I could live forever.