Collecting
“I
have collections of quirky things from places I've been to, like a
set of Russian dolls.” Emma Watson
Are
you a collector? I don't have that particular bug, but I'm coming
to understand that the people who do will stop at nothing. I have
seen that first hand with the eBay business. Collectors of things
that make no sense to me will spend hundreds, even thousands of
dollars to acquire the one missing piece of whatever it is they
collect. I know folks, in fact, who have entire basements and
storage units filled with their collections, never taken out of the
box or displayed. It's not so much about showing them, as it is about
possessing them.
Most
of the people I know collect at least one thing. One friend collects
ancient coins, Greek and Roman, and spends entire days cataloging and
researching them. Another collects sports cards, and has over a
million of them. My cousin, Sandy, collects many things—she loves
figurines of various stripes—birds, angels, children, animals, and
on and on.
I
must admit, I don't understand collecting, but there are so many,
many activities in which human beings engage that mystify me. My
philosophy is if it has to be dusted, I don't want it. Priorities,
you know. But, I do understand sentimental attachments. Yesterday, as
we unpacked collections of this and that, Sandy told me the history
of every item. Each one sparked a remembrance of the person who
gifted it, or the place she visited, or the time in her life that it
represented. Some were gifts from her son when he was a boy. Sweet
memories, precious people, good times. A lifetime mapped out in
ceramic birds and angels, and pudgy, painted children. Her collection
of priceless memories recorded in porcelain.
In
the Spirit,
Jane
No comments:
Post a Comment