Stuff And Things

It has been a while since I sat down to look at my thoughts, and a lot has happened. Conversely, there is not a lot going on.

My sister was here for a week surrounding her birthday. During that time, our brother decided that she needed to come and live with him, or at least live in his house. He's gone a lot of the time as a long-haul trucker. So he told her that she was coming to live with him, and decreed that I would move her up there. Now, I have no problem doing this; it just isn't going to happen until I finish these exams. We have set a tentative date in May to have this happen. I've gotten an estimate of the cost for a cargo van, with all of the additional miles estimated since we are talking about a pretty hefty distance here. I am counting on a couple of my aunts to put me up - one the night before we leave and another on my way back. I don't anticipate a problem, although there seems to be some resistance from one of the aunts as to whether this is a good idea. I think it has tremendous potential for good, especially as it seems to me to be a direct answer to my prayers about getting her out of the situation she is in currently.

So that is the big thing. As far as the studying, it seems that this big whopper of an exam is taking the two exams I have already passed, and going in-depth. So I have been glazing over some of the parts that are REALLY boring, and that is not a good thing. I've flunked (very badly) the practice quizzes for one particular section, and have mixed results, although passing ones, on other units. I think my prayer here is focus. And a desire to learn this stuff, because it's clear even to my razor-sharp mind that this is where God wants me to be, and what He wants me to do.

Something that I have been thinking about, in light of my sister moving and me trying to go through things here while she is going through her things yet again, is STUFF. I have friends who say I don't have a lot of stuff, although I think I have tons of it. A lot of it belongs to the church my husband and I were starting, which is no more. I have given some of those things to another church, but there is still a lot more. I think fully a quarter of the things in the spare bedroom belong to the church, and there are other things in the house that were purchased with church funds that I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with. My spare bedroom is full of stuff, and so is the closet in my office. I mean the bedroom that was fitted out for me as an office, not this office where I sit and study and worked with my husband.

The office which was his and then ours and now mine, where I work, is lean and clean. I had to go through and shred so much paper it took me weeks. I have a box of binders still in the garage that should be donated somewhere, but overall this is the least filled room in the house because of all the cleaning I had to do. But his presence is still everywhere, most especially in here because of the pictures. Dad got me a shadowbox frame for Christmas, and he found a picture of my husband to go in it, along with a poem printed on the glass and mat. It is on the top shelf of the bookcase over my head, where I have to consciously make an effort to look at it. That poem makes me cry. Heck, just thinking about it makes me cry. So I don't want to see it all the time because my husband would not want me to be crying all the time - he's having a blast and I need to be happy for him and not weepy.

But I was talking about stuff. How much stuff is enough? It is a delicate balance between clutter and memories, I think. I donated some sales trophies last week, and as my sister was writing the list I asked her if I needed to keep those awards. They were nice looking, brass, with wooden or marble bases, but not something that had meaning for me other that that he had earned them. I already had given one of each type to Dad, and Dad said I should do what I felt was right with anything I came across. Of course I give him first right of refusal on anything to do with his son, my husband. And I found one of those mirrored sentimental things from one of his sisters, and set it aside to ask her if she wanted it. No wonder it's taking me so long to go through things!

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