That's a lovely story Carol and so well written! I understand completely how you feel. I'm going through this right now with my wedding dress. I know it will not come with me, it's an emotional thing. Your perspective will help me find a loving home for it now. Thank you.
Thank you so much, Rhetta. Your comment truly touched me.
I completely understand how you feel about your wedding dress. I struggled with mine, too. I also had the dress my late mother wore to my wedding, and I couldn't imagine simply letting either one go.
In the end, I found a wonderful woman on Etsy who transformed the fabrics and lace from both dresses into two decorative pillows. It turned out to be the perfect solution for me. I no longer have the dresses themselves, but I still have something beautiful that reminds me of that special day—and of my mother.
Whatever you decide, I hope you find a solution that feels right to you. Sometimes it's not about keeping the object itself, but about finding a new way to carry the memory forward. - CW
Thank you for your comment, Mary. That means so much coming from you. Writing this story brought back many memories of that enormous transition, and I hope it helps others understand that the emotional side of a move can be every bit as significant as the practical one. Sending our love to you both. - CW
oh carol!!! what a beautiful story. i think one of the reasons, honestly, i/we decided to stay in the states, was that i didn't know how to part with the memories i had collected over the years. not my sofa or assorted seating, but special things...and there were so many of them. just tonight i was telling a friend about the driftwood lamps my father made in the very early '50's, which i have treasured my whole life. and custom pieces i had made during my design career. art. my handpainted italian dinnerware. i didn't have a wedding pattern. books. photographs. so much stuff. my z3 roadster...the dogs... it just was so much more practical to put it all on a truck (well, not all - i did alot of donating and selling) and move to new mexico! that said - i think, almost every day, how life would have been in europe. no regrets, however....
Bonnie, thank you for sharing this. As I was reading your list—the lamps your father made, the pieces from your design career, the Italian dinnerware, the books, the photographs—I could almost see a lifetime unfolding through those objects.
I also think it's perfectly possible to wonder how life might have been while still knowing you made the right decision for yourselves. Santa Fe has become part of your story now, just as Portugal has become part of ours. Sometimes it's not about choosing the "better" path, but simply living the one we chose with gratitude.
Things. Memories. As we age, those are what and who we are. Things are sometimes difficult to let go. Memories sometimes just go, stored away somewhere, sometimes to come back after something jostles that bundle of whatever in our heads. Memories. Lovely story, obrigado.
Thank you for your comment, Bob. I love the way you put this. It made me think that perhaps the objects themselves matter less over time than the memories they quietly hold for us. And sometimes, as you say, all it takes is the smallest thing to bring those memories rushing back. Obrigada for such a thoughtful reflection. - CW
Quite so, methinks. My mom died a couple of years ago (at 96!) and my sisters and I had such a good time going through her "stuff" and recalling the memories. Sisters chose china, and this n that, memories in stuff. I think of it as the base memories of who we were, and who we've become. Shared memories, from the past, still remembered all these years later. (Getting older!)
What a lovely memory, Bob. I especially like your description of these as the “base memories” of who we were and who we’ve become. Going through your mother’s things together must have been bittersweet, but also such a gift, to laugh, remember, and discover how much shared history can still live inside ordinary objects. How fortunate you and your sisters were to have had your mother in your lives for so long! - CW
This was a great article - really well written and touching. Such a great new life for an old, unused object! I’m one of the rare weirdos who doesn’t have much of an attachment to “things”. It wasn’t difficult for me at all to get rid of 99% of my stuff prior to moving here. My partner, on the other hand, agonized and really suffered emotionally by having to declutter. I have a hard time understanding the importance of something that sits in a box unused, unadmired and in a lot of cases, completely forgotten about. I mean, if you haven’t looked at it in 20 years and pretty much forgot that it existed, is it REALLY that meaningful?? Anyway, we each have our individual preferences and we just have to respect them. Thanks for the article.
Thank you for your comment, Timothy. I smiled reading this because Paul and I discovered something similar - that people can experience the very same process in completely different ways. Some of us attach memories to objects, while others carry those memories without needing the objects themselves. Neither is right or wrong, but it certainly makes for an interesting journey when two people are decluttering together! - CW
"Interesting" is a good way to put it! Because we have so much less space here than in the US, my frequent question was "if you keep X, where are you going to put it?" That often forced the tough decisions. I always said that if it's THAT important to you, keep it and pay for storage in the US. Luckily (for me), my partner's stinginess usually won out over nostalgia!!! ;)
I think many of those decisions ultimately came down to exactly that question! It's amazing how quickly nostalgia meets reality when you're deciding what will actually fit into a new life. Looking back now, I don't miss most of the things we left behind nearly as much as I once imagined I would. - CW
This touches my heart. We went through that culling process in the two-year time frame of getting here. Four generations of possessions was our assignment—reviewing and revisiting, separating things into boxes until we figured out what we might give away, sell or bring. Books, records and art were priorities, and photos that still needed to be digitized made the cut. It was an emotional process, but it helped us lighten our load and begin again. Hopefully some of the things we donated to Goodwill made it into homes that needed or wanted them.
Thank you for your comment, Maria. I think you've described so beautifully what so many people experience but rarely talk about. It's never just about sorting possessions; it's about revisiting chapters of our lives. I love your thought that some of those things may have found new homes where they were truly needed and appreciated. There's something comforting about that. - CW
That's a lovely story Carol and so well written! I understand completely how you feel. I'm going through this right now with my wedding dress. I know it will not come with me, it's an emotional thing. Your perspective will help me find a loving home for it now. Thank you.
Thank you so much, Rhetta. Your comment truly touched me.
I completely understand how you feel about your wedding dress. I struggled with mine, too. I also had the dress my late mother wore to my wedding, and I couldn't imagine simply letting either one go.
In the end, I found a wonderful woman on Etsy who transformed the fabrics and lace from both dresses into two decorative pillows. It turned out to be the perfect solution for me. I no longer have the dresses themselves, but I still have something beautiful that reminds me of that special day—and of my mother.
Whatever you decide, I hope you find a solution that feels right to you. Sometimes it's not about keeping the object itself, but about finding a new way to carry the memory forward. - CW
Beauifully written Carol. The more you write the better you get. I'm sure your story will help those considering a big move. Xoxo to you and Paul.
Thank you for your comment, Mary. That means so much coming from you. Writing this story brought back many memories of that enormous transition, and I hope it helps others understand that the emotional side of a move can be every bit as significant as the practical one. Sending our love to you both. - CW
oh carol!!! what a beautiful story. i think one of the reasons, honestly, i/we decided to stay in the states, was that i didn't know how to part with the memories i had collected over the years. not my sofa or assorted seating, but special things...and there were so many of them. just tonight i was telling a friend about the driftwood lamps my father made in the very early '50's, which i have treasured my whole life. and custom pieces i had made during my design career. art. my handpainted italian dinnerware. i didn't have a wedding pattern. books. photographs. so much stuff. my z3 roadster...the dogs... it just was so much more practical to put it all on a truck (well, not all - i did alot of donating and selling) and move to new mexico! that said - i think, almost every day, how life would have been in europe. no regrets, however....
Bonnie, thank you for sharing this. As I was reading your list—the lamps your father made, the pieces from your design career, the Italian dinnerware, the books, the photographs—I could almost see a lifetime unfolding through those objects.
I also think it's perfectly possible to wonder how life might have been while still knowing you made the right decision for yourselves. Santa Fe has become part of your story now, just as Portugal has become part of ours. Sometimes it's not about choosing the "better" path, but simply living the one we chose with gratitude.
Sending love to you both. - CW
Things. Memories. As we age, those are what and who we are. Things are sometimes difficult to let go. Memories sometimes just go, stored away somewhere, sometimes to come back after something jostles that bundle of whatever in our heads. Memories. Lovely story, obrigado.
Thank you for your comment, Bob. I love the way you put this. It made me think that perhaps the objects themselves matter less over time than the memories they quietly hold for us. And sometimes, as you say, all it takes is the smallest thing to bring those memories rushing back. Obrigada for such a thoughtful reflection. - CW
Quite so, methinks. My mom died a couple of years ago (at 96!) and my sisters and I had such a good time going through her "stuff" and recalling the memories. Sisters chose china, and this n that, memories in stuff. I think of it as the base memories of who we were, and who we've become. Shared memories, from the past, still remembered all these years later. (Getting older!)
What a lovely memory, Bob. I especially like your description of these as the “base memories” of who we were and who we’ve become. Going through your mother’s things together must have been bittersweet, but also such a gift, to laugh, remember, and discover how much shared history can still live inside ordinary objects. How fortunate you and your sisters were to have had your mother in your lives for so long! - CW
This was a great article - really well written and touching. Such a great new life for an old, unused object! I’m one of the rare weirdos who doesn’t have much of an attachment to “things”. It wasn’t difficult for me at all to get rid of 99% of my stuff prior to moving here. My partner, on the other hand, agonized and really suffered emotionally by having to declutter. I have a hard time understanding the importance of something that sits in a box unused, unadmired and in a lot of cases, completely forgotten about. I mean, if you haven’t looked at it in 20 years and pretty much forgot that it existed, is it REALLY that meaningful?? Anyway, we each have our individual preferences and we just have to respect them. Thanks for the article.
Thank you for your comment, Timothy. I smiled reading this because Paul and I discovered something similar - that people can experience the very same process in completely different ways. Some of us attach memories to objects, while others carry those memories without needing the objects themselves. Neither is right or wrong, but it certainly makes for an interesting journey when two people are decluttering together! - CW
"Interesting" is a good way to put it! Because we have so much less space here than in the US, my frequent question was "if you keep X, where are you going to put it?" That often forced the tough decisions. I always said that if it's THAT important to you, keep it and pay for storage in the US. Luckily (for me), my partner's stinginess usually won out over nostalgia!!! ;)
I think many of those decisions ultimately came down to exactly that question! It's amazing how quickly nostalgia meets reality when you're deciding what will actually fit into a new life. Looking back now, I don't miss most of the things we left behind nearly as much as I once imagined I would. - CW
This touches my heart. We went through that culling process in the two-year time frame of getting here. Four generations of possessions was our assignment—reviewing and revisiting, separating things into boxes until we figured out what we might give away, sell or bring. Books, records and art were priorities, and photos that still needed to be digitized made the cut. It was an emotional process, but it helped us lighten our load and begin again. Hopefully some of the things we donated to Goodwill made it into homes that needed or wanted them.
Thank you for your comment, Maria. I think you've described so beautifully what so many people experience but rarely talk about. It's never just about sorting possessions; it's about revisiting chapters of our lives. I love your thought that some of those things may have found new homes where they were truly needed and appreciated. There's something comforting about that. - CW