Thank you for this. While I'm not directly impacted by the current fires, beyond air quality, I am always aware that it could all be gone in a moment. And thinking about what I would take with me, beyond my cat, in a situation like what my fellow Angelenos have been going through fills me with anxiety and I immediately shut down. I feel for those who have lost everything, and especially for those who do not have the resources to rebuild, or second homes to run to. Noone should have to qualify their grief by saying that "of course it's all just stuff." But I think it helps some folks to frame things that way in the immediate aftermath.
I’ve moved this past year and am still separated from some of my most treasured things. It is not the same as losing it to a fire, but I agree with your premise that the stuff, the meaning of the stuff can matter. I yearn for objects that most people wouldn’t think of as important exactly because they give me a sense of the home I left behind and the home I’m trying to establish here.
We move fairly (too) often, but we are now prepping a big move to Israel this summer that is necessitating getting rid of LOTS of what we've accumulated through the years. Your reflection hits home!
Yes and it’s a lovely piece that sits with me when I think about refugees- the afghan family I have become friends with who left everything in Kabul, all of their memories held in objects there. The Palestinians who have lost people and the objects that helped them remember those people in a genocide. How being ripped from places you call home hurts your sense of place not just in geography and social fabrics but the familiar architecture and foods and things that people and their families gather.
Jill, thank you for this wonderful piece. I can relate to this and recognize that the memories of the people and places these possessions evoke is very important.
Thank you for this. While I'm not directly impacted by the current fires, beyond air quality, I am always aware that it could all be gone in a moment. And thinking about what I would take with me, beyond my cat, in a situation like what my fellow Angelenos have been going through fills me with anxiety and I immediately shut down. I feel for those who have lost everything, and especially for those who do not have the resources to rebuild, or second homes to run to. Noone should have to qualify their grief by saying that "of course it's all just stuff." But I think it helps some folks to frame things that way in the immediate aftermath.
I’ve moved this past year and am still separated from some of my most treasured things. It is not the same as losing it to a fire, but I agree with your premise that the stuff, the meaning of the stuff can matter. I yearn for objects that most people wouldn’t think of as important exactly because they give me a sense of the home I left behind and the home I’m trying to establish here.
We move fairly (too) often, but we are now prepping a big move to Israel this summer that is necessitating getting rid of LOTS of what we've accumulated through the years. Your reflection hits home!
Yes and it’s a lovely piece that sits with me when I think about refugees- the afghan family I have become friends with who left everything in Kabul, all of their memories held in objects there. The Palestinians who have lost people and the objects that helped them remember those people in a genocide. How being ripped from places you call home hurts your sense of place not just in geography and social fabrics but the familiar architecture and foods and things that people and their families gather.
Jill, thank you for this wonderful piece. I can relate to this and recognize that the memories of the people and places these possessions evoke is very important.