Unsettling

My mother made a comment the other day that got me thinking. In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, she feels that she has too many material possessions. It is almost unfair that her house was spared, with it's four bedrooms, closets filled to the brim, while others nearby are left with absolutely nothing.

"I have eight red shirts in my closet. Who really needs eight red shirts?" she lamented. I didn't really understand at that moment. She has the ability to have eight red shirts, she should appreciate that. But as I thought about the comment, and my life in general, I realized that maybe I wasn't as grateful for the material things in my life as I should be.

And then, there was the Weekend From Hell.

My mother-in-law enlisted the help of her four children this past weekend to help clean her garage & attic. I have never seen as much stuff as she crams into this house. Every corner, every surface, everything is covered with something. As the kids walked by with armload after armload of stuff, I started to wonder if she had ever thrown anything away. Every item had a story. Every item had a memory. And in that was both joy & sadness. A house full of memories. An era coming to an end.

Her youngest daughter is preparing to leave for college this summer, and you can tell that she's having a very hard time with it. She clings to her daughter in an over-protective mode that would rival Hitler's regime. Soon there will be nothing left in that house but things, things & more things. Nobody to talk to. Nothing but things to keep her company.

And with that, one of life's little clichés suddenly became frighteningly and glaringly true. Money will not buy you happiness.