“What’s this?” Brian asked, as water dripped from the corner of an ornate book.
A wide, satin ribbon was wrapped round the tapestry cover. When opened, it folded out accordion-style. Inside were love letters, the ink of once-tender words now smeared.
The keepsake had fallen victim to last week’s torrential rains that flooded our basement.
“It’s a good thing you’re the love of my life,” I said, and tried to shrug off its sentimental value.
Though I hadn’t given thought to the album in years, I always treasured the letters and drawings from, undoubtedly, the high points of past relationships. Which is why it’s probably not a good idea to hold on to such things lest you’re tempted to use them as a look back in time.
BECAUSE we were without power for the better part of five hours that night we had no sump pump to keep the creeping waters at bay.
Once we realized we were sunk, we lit candles all around and furiously began to haul what we could upstairs. It was unsettling to watch the water steadily envelope bookcases, chests of drawers, storage bins and other heavy items.
By the next day our front porch was littered with toys, clothes, pictures, LPs, books, Christmas decorations and the like. Over the weekend we hauled out waterlogged carpets, bookcases and chests, followed by the task of washing down walls and floors.
Fortunately, few things were of value, having moved them to higher ground after the 2007 lesson. Part of me even thanked Mother Nature for helping me take another stab at having too much stuff and what a burden it can be.
We still have yet to return what’s been salvaged, taking our time to evaluate their true worth.
THE BIGGEST takeaway from all the damage and loss was realizing no mementoes or keepsakes can compare to the here and now.
And sometimes getting rid of the physical lets you also shake off emotional ties.
