Why do we hold onto things?
That's something I've asked myself all my life.
There are items in my possession that I sometimes marvel as to how and why I still have them. Well, the why's, I always know, but having moved around to live in many countries, I am shocked by my discoveries whenever I go back to places and items resurface.
When I saw the #BoW topic: Memories Of Things Dear To The Heart, my heart skipped a beat.
My thoughts went straight to memories I've been trying to suppress of my favourite socks, that are no longer with me.
My Favourite Socks
Acquired 14 years ago in the Netherlands
My comfort in difficult times of my first winter experience ever.
My best friends.
Precious to me
Made me happy no matter the season.
My special love...
I used to be a terrible hoarder, and my closet collection was an embarrassment! Clearing house had always left everyone baffled, as to how many persons my wardrobe belonged to.
I knew I had a problem, which played on my mind, "lightly".
I distinctly remember once when I was living in Jamaica when my husband @scubahead and I were only friends, and he offered to help me move house.
On one of several carton boxes that's still at my mum's house, he wrote:
"Bags, bags, bags, and more bags".
Something that made my mum chuckle and remark that she'd love to meet the person who wrote that on my box.🤣
I don't know what I was thinking.
Probably I'm just a sentimental person.
Is holding on to things for sentimental reasons a bad thing?
Honestly, I took that concept too far.
After a while, that problem started to play on my mind "heavily"!
I had things that no longer sparked joy, and things that linked to precious memories of special people, places, times, and things. Still, I had to take drastic actions with my possessions, and evaluate the "sentiment of the sentimentals".
I try to live a no regrets life, so I'm careful with my decisions...but man, did I eff up with my socks?
Big time!
Relocating from the Philippines to the Uk, at a time when I'd been experiencing lock downs and confinement, my possessions became nothing but obstacles. I started to make mental notes of everything I'd use and my preferred go-to items.
Slowly, and gradually, I parted with personal belongings that were hindering me. Thoughtfully, I sorted and distributed items to match personalities of people I'd come to know to a certain extent.
Knowing that we'd be moving back to live onboard a tiny narrowboat, downsizing was the sensible decision.
Letting go
Parting with sentimental items took will-power and pragmatic thinking. Packing to just one suitcase within weight allowance, and a backpack, plus the upheaval of selling all furnishings and big items caused excessive stress.
So stressed, I ended up using my chaotic head, instead of following my heart.
I sacrificed my precious socks.💔
Like a lunatic, with tearful eyes, I took this photo above of my socks to have memories of them...not that I would forget, but I needed something.
Remorse
Arriving back home to the UK and experiencing a new lifestyle of living on a narrowboat was one of the happiest moments of my life. However, that joy was tainted by memories and longing I had for my favourite socks. At a time that was reported as one of the coldest UK Springs in recent years, I mourned the loss, and sadly missed the feel and comfort that my favourite socks normally provided me.
Strangely, @xwidep the best man at our wedding and best friend of my husband, recognised that it being such a cold spring, and us having quarantine obligation, that socks and hats would have been great welcome gifts, on his visit to our boat.
Receiving new pairs of thick socks was awesome, but nearly caused me a meltdown, as I fought back tears knowing the grave mistake I made.
Did Does my heart ache? YES!
I questioned life, love, decisions, and more.
"Is this how it feels to regret dumping a lover that you'd do anything to regain, knowing that they're never coming back?" I asked myself.
I kept looking through my belongings with the hope that I had taken my socks out the trash. Looking at my items, I kept thinking I could have packed the frigging socks...
I suffered the loss of my favourite socks painfully, alone.
How could I share the sadness I was feeling for socks? (well, not just any socks; my sentimental first knee high winter socks).
Laughable is what anyone would think because socks are replaceable right?
That's what I told myself when I heavy heartedly binned them.
#APartOfMeDiedInThePhilippines
I share my little secret now, and I think maybe this will give me closure to my socks that I will never step feet back in again.☹️
Thank you for reading my blog!
