Like many poor people I have a habit of collecting things. My grandparents were influential in my life, and they lived in wartime, and so, hoarded food and supplies against potential lack. I like to have extra of things. My childhood involved a fair bit f getting sent away, and so I developed the idea that love, too was something one could hoard and hang onto, in the form of gifts and momentos from loved ones.
Today I realized, for the first time, that I can count on both hands and keep going, the people who love me and would be there for me. It is remarkable. I do not think I need to hang onto all this stuff to try to keep that love and those people in mind. If the relationships should dissolve, it is nothing a boxful of crap or a stuffed animal will solv anyhow.
It was an incredible lightening, and I am emptying my house.