If you read the BLOG of last week, you will know that, just last night, I announced to the rock club folks that I would not be producing their annual dinner for vendors and volunteers, next February. After eight years of planning and producing the banquet to thank all of the people involved with the annual show and sale, I’ve decided that this eighth year will be my last.
It was a wonderful banquet. I was able to see many rock club people that I’ve not seen for months because the regular meeting are at night and, as you know, I don’t drive at night any more.
Nancy helped me with decorating of the hall and, then, drove me home in the dark. Without her, I would not have been able to have the decorations on the tables, the celebratory cake moved from the car to the inside of the venue, the tables covered with appropriately colored covering. In short, without her help, I’d have been “up a creek without a paddle.” The tables decked out in their finery were beautiful. Flameless candles glowed. Napkins holding the ballpoint pens with “diamond” gems at their top. Tiny cupcakes for celebrating the 19th birthday of a member who was born in 1948 on February 29 were elegant to use to toast the birthday girl.
I made my announcement to the group that this would be my last year of producing the banquet and asked for someone to step up to take charge for next year. And, glory! A younger woman did just that. Linda will take over. And, maybe this is the best. She took everything home to use for next year. All of the decorations. The unused table coverings. The flameless candles and their batteries. The colorful sprays. Everything that can be used to enhance the beauty of the evening.
You may remember my personal goal – something has to leave my house, every day, and NEVER come back. So, here was a carload of things that left my house and will never come back. There are many individual items in the boxes taken by Linda, after the banquet. I thought maybe they would, collectively, mean that I’d have removed that many things from my house that would never come back. Daughter #1, however, squashed that idea. “No,” she said. “One day – one thing.” I remember when I gave away four hundred books in one day and bragged to Larry that four hundred things went out of the door that day, not to return, he, too, disagreed. “One day – one thing!” So, I guess that all of those banquet items will count as one.
I confess that I will be very sad to have this activity that I love disappear from my life. I do love putting on a party. Any party. And, I think that I’m pretty good at it. At least, the people who attend seem happy.
My next real party will be in July – my 86th birthday party at the Los Portales restaurant. I’ll be able to use the table decorations that I’ve purchased especially for that party. Table coverings. Flameless candles. Colorful sprays. As well as name tags especially made for that birthday.
But, letting go is really hard for me. I remember other things that I’ve had to let go of. Pet schnauzers whose time on earth was over. Automobiles that I’d grown to love. Oldsmobiles. An even older Datsun that took Larry and me on our only trip to Washington, DC. My Chevy Suburban.
Books that I’ve loved for years, but really can’t keep in my library. Most of them have gone on to serve in other capacities, rather than sitting on the shelves in my personal library. My first attempt of downsizing my books was to give the first four hundred books to a school on an Indian Reservation in one of the Dakotas. Another four hundred went to a literacy program at Lawrence University in Wisconsin. And, soon, another set of books, written years ago by a teacher of Native American children; she had no books about kids like the ones she was teaching. So, she wrote her own, using Native American Artists to illustrate them. Ann Nolan Clark wrote these stories long before it became “fashionable” to write for these kids. It is my hope that my collection of her books will help new teachers learn what they may have to do to meet the needs of their students.
It is not hard for me to let things go when I have multiples of them. I’m guessing that I once thought, if one is good – two (or three …) must be better. So, now, when I find two whisks that are identical, or two knives that are identical, or two coats that are the same, I’m far less reluctant to let one or more of hem go.
Even though family members have selected nutcrackers that belonged to Larry, it has been hard to let them go. I actually purchased most of those nutcrackers for him. Some came from the artistry of a German craftsman. Others not so precious. The first nutcracker in the collection is one that Daughter #1 chose. The nutcracker from the Christmas story; I used to tell the story of The Nutcracker to my students. That nutcracker is years old. I’m so glad they are in the homes of people who care about them. Still, it is difficult to pass the ledge by the wood stove where they have resided for years and not see them.
It was not difficult to give my All-Clad pots and pans to son-in-law Bob. I know they are in good hands and, as luck would have it, they are stainless steel and perfect for the new kitchen range he now uses. I do, however, every once in a while, look for one of them; yet, of course, it is not there. So, I go to the pantry where the Corningware will serve my purpose.
I suppose that hardest part of letting go is when, after teaching our daughters and allowing them to make decisions for themselves, we hit a brick wall when we want them to think as we do and they don’t. We say, “I think you should do this,” and they do the opposite. And, at first, we get really angry with them for not doing what we ask. After all, they’ve “been trained” to do what we ask. And, yet, they go on their own way.
So, keep what you can. Let go of what you can. And, believe that it will probably work out in the end. Be Safe and Be Well
The Cranky Crone
Thoughtful comments are appreciated.
2 replies on “Giving Up Something We Love”
I have been grappling with this one lately…
“I suppose that [the] hardest part of letting go is when, after teaching our daughters and allowing them to make decisions for themselves, we hit a brick wall when we want them to think as we do and they don’t. We say, “I think you should do this,” and they do the opposite. And, at first, we get really angry with them for not doing what we ask. After all, they’ve “been trained” to do what we ask. And, yet, they go on their own way.”
“Mom, your opinions still matter a lot to us; we still hear you in our heads, but we do have to make our own decisions,” could be what my own children are saying to me, just as I’ve said this to my own mother.
Love you, Mom! I hear you.
It’s nice when things find a second home where they are used and appreciated.