a rift in the matrix

The house clearing continues.

But far slower than we had originally scheduled. It appears the listing date for the house may be a bit later than planned.

Dee commented the other day that part of the interruptions are caused by memories the three of us share. That is partly true. But neither Darrel nor I are very sentimental about our pasts.

This photograph is a perfect example of what would elicit nostalgic tales amongst some families. It is a booster sweater that was worn either by Darrel or me when we lived in Powers. We assume there was once a pair. The size gives you some idea that it was worn by a tyke.

I have heard from several readers about my age that their children have no interest in their parents' possessions. The fact that a bowl accompanied a great-great grandmother on the Oregon Trail seems to have no particular meaning to someone born in 1962.

I suspect that is partly due to our national habit of reinventing ourselves each generation. And it is why conservatism (in its European form) never took root here. Alexis de Tocqueville observed that, being a new country, America did not have the historical constraints of European countries.

That may be one reason we do not keep or value things whose sole value is to be the bearer of family history. In the case of the tiny sweater, neither Darrel, Mom, nor I know for certain anything about the sweater. The fact that it has suffered the moth-led slings and arrows of outrageous fortune destines it for the trash pile.

Some wag once said there are two types of people in the world. People that categorize the world into two categories and people who don't. So, I am reluctant to toss out the possibility that there are people who place great value in family heirlooms and there are those who see them as dust collectors.

If you are in the latter category, you are welcome to join our tossing task. If you are in the former category, there are piles to be pawed.

But probably not the sweater.