One of the great ah-ha moments of LBL’s life began with the sight of small pieces of a photo in the trash can in the driveway of her marital residence. At first, what LBL was looking at made no sense to her. LBL recognized the photo, one taken by Now Husband, of her on a camping trip, posed on the ground in front of their tent. It was her favorite photo of herself, and his favorite of her as well. For years, it had sat on the bookshelf of his study, and it had given LBL unending pleasure to see it each time she came into the room. As she picked through the small pieces of the photo, her brain raced. Although her ex and she had separated shortly before that day, the dissolution of her marriage was more understandable to her than the “dissolution” of that photo.
It took LBL a long time to accept that the photo was gone, longer still to make sense of what that meant. If she could lose that photo, what else then, was at risk? If she could lose that photo, what then couldn’t she lose? The answers were “everything” and “nothing.” The realization was shocking. In that moment, LBL did the only thing she could. She let go of it all.
That moment was to define all others that followed. Her attachment to “things” disappeared. It has never come back. In a very real sense, LBL emotionally released all of the precious artifacts and hard-won possessions of her life. While such items continue to nurture her and to give her great pleasure, they no longer define her. And they no longer demand a permanency in her life. They are merely gentle reminders of her past, while her focus remains firmly on her future.
Life in the Boomer Lane 
carldagostino
January 1, 2011
When my parents moved in with me 9 years ago we all had to “reduce portfolio” in the sense of disposing of over half our life’s accumulations for room. I let go of those things with admirable detachment, but mother also disposed of hundreds of photos and there are only 3 or 4 very battered shots from my childhood and nothing from teens. I have a few items of my own from 40’s and late 50″s. I supposed we are attached because they are evidence of that we were here. But I suppose the most important parts of the legacies we may leave behind are not captured in photos but in those “unseeable”memories of the heart. I am told these last longer anyway.
lifeintheboomerlane
January 1, 2011
Agreed. Of any material mementos, I think photos are the most precious. And I certainly have a lot of them. But I know that my kids won’t know who most of the people are in these photos, and if they dispose of them, so be it. I’ll probably do a purge in the years to come so that their job is easier. But I’ll save the photos of them!
Kathryn McCullough
January 1, 2011
Interesting reflection. It’s strange sometimes how one image can say so much, represent so much, become a source of such profound revelation, imprinting itself so strongly on the heart. Thanks for sharing this!
Kathy
lifeintheboomerlane
January 1, 2011
I’ve thought about that a lot since then, how one moment in time can change us so profoundly.
duke1959
January 1, 2011
you are right about photos. For me if there are 10 of me that is pushing it. There simply are so few.
lifeintheboomerlane
January 1, 2011
And my grandson, at 18 months, already has thousand of photos of him!
duke1959
January 1, 2011
I’m sure he is so much better looking!
sunshineinlondon
January 1, 2011
I can imagine the significance of seeing that photo, torn and in the trash, Renee. That must have hurt. And how amazing of you to take such a profound learning from it … you certainly are the bigger person for doing that.
Sunshine xx
lifeintheboomerlane
January 1, 2011
And I was well aware that a lot of hurt on his part went into the act.
somethingnewplease
January 1, 2011
Fascinating how our frozen cross sections of memories mean so much.
Aside from a photo, I don’t think there are any authentic, honest memories. Maybe this leads to a sense of betrayal in the death of your photograph.
I keep a photo of a toilet, sink, and water heater from the first place I ever worked. Every time I move (once a year) I take them down, pack them up, and take them to the new place, hanging them in the bathroom.
Some people think that’s weird, but it gives me a sort of consistency.
Fascinating thoughts on photographs,
D
lifeintheboomerlane
January 2, 2011
Thanks for reading. I have a copy of a commission check from 1983. It took me two years to get the deal to settlement, in spite of everything going wrong that could go wrong. I keep that on my desk because the message is that if that deal went through, anything is possible.
writerwoman61
January 1, 2011
This story made me sad, Renée…I tend to cling to memories…I’m glad you’ve been able to move past it, though!
Glad you were part of my 2010…looking forward to more posts in 2011!
Wendy
lifeintheboomerlane
January 1, 2011
The moment I saw the torn up photo was terrible. But I think the positive, the letting go, was greater.
Debbie
January 2, 2011
Oh, Renee, your observations are so wise! We always hear on TV interviews after tornadoes and hurricanes and such from people who might have “lost everything” but their lives and families; I’m sure they’d agree with you that “things” aren’t what’s important in the world! What a freeing, yet painful, experience.
lifeintheboomerlane
January 2, 2011
Thanks, Debbie. And that’s a perfect way to describe it: freeing, yet painful. That certainly describes other life events, as well.
duke1959
January 2, 2011
In 1973 the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers did what they do every spring. That is flood. The 73 flood was worse than most. My grandfather lost everything. I remember sitting next to him when the rep. from the government came by. After all the normal questions by grandfather asked this question. How do I replace the only picture of my father? ( my great-grandfather) The question never got answered.
lifeintheboomerlane
January 2, 2011
Ah, that is so painful. Photos, of course, have a value that nothing else has, especially when we have so few of any one person. A few generations ago, many people had little or no photos. The earliest photo I have of my mom was when she was sixteen. I have one of my dad when he was a toddler, then nothing more until he was an adult.
Allison
January 2, 2011
Your story serves as proof that insight can come in the most unexpected places. I liked your phrasing of “the ‘dissolution’ of that photo”. It conjured my own memories of dissolving photos, mementos, and a way of life.
lifeintheboomerlane
January 2, 2011
Thanks, Allison. I’ve always had a fascination for photos and what they represent, beyond the obvious. I wrote a short story around a photo and a novel that used photos as vehicles for characterization.
Emily Jane
January 3, 2011
This is such a powerful post. I read a book last year all about that, about letting go of mementos, trinkets, essentially letting go of material things that can turn into the very definition of ourselves… it had in it a story of a woman who was incredibly frustrated and heartbroken at having lost her wedding ring. She spent months searching for it, every day fuelled by feelings of panic at having lost it. But in reality, she hadn’t lost the fact that she was married. She hadn’t lost anything that actually defined who she was, but by attaching herself so strongly to an object, she caused herself a lot of anxiety. It’s hard to let go of these things… but you’re right, freedom can come from the letting go…
lifeintheboomerlane
January 3, 2011
Thanks, Emily Jane. And yes, exactly. Of course, there are items I wish I hadn’t lost. But at a very fundamental level, loss/letting go of material things brings us closer to who we are and to our place in the universe. It’s freeing and empowering.
Hippie Cahier
January 4, 2011
It’s getting very late and I’m still catching up on reading. I don’t want to let another night go by without checking in and, now that I’m here, acknowledging this very insightful post.
Letting go is so difficult and often so necessary. Happy New Year, Renee.
lifeintheboomerlane
January 4, 2011
Thanks, Hippie, and Happy New Year to you, too.
hannahjustbreathe
January 4, 2011
All my life, my father has repeatedly reminded me that things are just *things.* I can’t love them; I don’t necessarily need them; I should not put such great emphasis on them. I understand his point and agree with him, but… My journals? The bracelet my mother gave me when I was 18 and a freshman in college? My grandmother’s pearl necklace? If I lost those, I can’t help but think I’d lose a part of myself, too.
I loved this post. I loved that it made me question my own attachments to the things in my life—not in a good or bad way, but just in a “Hmm…” kind of way. 🙂
lifeintheboomerlane
January 4, 2011
Thanks, Hannah. Believe me, I can relate to the loss of something very precious (my mom’s ring, my grandmother’s earring). I tell myself that there was a message in the loss. That last line you wrote, about questioning in a neutral way, is so powerful. I find that if I can come from a neutral place-not from a judgment of something being good or bad or right or wrong-my thoughts are so much clearer.
Tori
January 4, 2011
What a huge step to decide against letting “things” own you! I work towards this a little bit everyday (some days see more progress than others). Thanks for sharing your experience, and kudos for turning a hurtful situation into something postitive!
lifeintheboomerlane
January 4, 2011
Thanks, Tori. And I love that you work toward this at your age. It took me many years to appreciate the benefits of not being attached to material things.
Cindy Lutenbacher
October 12, 2011
Dear Renee,
I only know your name from reading the posts of others. And I found your blog through Betty Londergan’s. In any case, I appreciate what you’ve said. Even with my “side of the road” furniture and Early American Scrap Lumber style of living, there’s too much crap in my life, things that “I might need one day.” Time to pass on even more of them to folks who might need the stuff now. Actually, I’ve given away much more stuff than I have, and my daughters and I go through and give away constantly. Time to get down to the “two duffel bags” paradigm.
Do you blog often about other things?
Thanks,
Cindy Lutenbacher
Single mother, teacher at Morehouse, activist, writer
lifeintheboomerlane
October 12, 2011
Hi Cindy, thanks for visiting Life in the Boomer Lane. Although my blog is primarily humor aimed at boomers and covers an array of topics, I do occassionally throw in more serious pieces. The two books I’ve co-authored have been memoir-style and covered a variety of topics for women at midlife and beyond (everything from breast tattoos to breast cancer). I believe if this world is to survive, it will be through the empowerment of women, because women across the planet are our #1 under-utilized resource. What do you teach? Write? And what issues are you active in?
Cindy Lutenbacher
October 12, 2011
Hi, Renee,
Let’s see…I’m a single, white, lesbian mother of two daughters of color, Associate Prof of English at Morehouse College, lifelong activist toward ending war, racism, and all oppression, and for justice, equality, and compassion. I think I have the most trouble with that last noun, myself. Came by almost all my values as a youth and never let go of them. I’m told that such perdurance of values makes me a boomer anomaly, but I’m too busy to care about finding out.
And you?
Also, what are your books?
Thanks.
Cindy Lutenbacher
October 12, 2011
Below…plus, I forgot to note another consuming passion…public education. I, too, have written a memoir-style book about my younger daughter’s second-grade year. It’s with a publisher now, and I’m walking with fingers and toes crossed for a happy reply.
lifeintheboomerlane
October 12, 2011
Wow, what a bio. And much luck with the manuscript. Our books, Invisible No More: The Secret Lives of Women Over 50 and Saving the Best for Last: Creating Our Lives After 50, went the round of agents and publishers. Finally, we took matters into our own hands and went the print-on-demand route. We have sold thousands of books, won awards, appeared in the media, spoken to countless groups, and designed and led workshops (including my favorite, “Writing Your Life”). It’s been a ton of work, and there has been no money. We continue because we are passionate about changing the conversation about women over 50.
Cindy Lutenbacher
October 12, 2011
Wonderful! And now that I’ve made my way to your blogsite, i’ve begun reading your pieces (grade a few papers, respond to a few poems, and read a Renee piece). Delicious. So far, my fave is the jury experience. I laughed out loud.
Cindy Lutenbacher
October 12, 2011
Renee, how do I get my county library to request your books?