Enough Stuff

My head was spinning.

I put the Jeep in reverse and backed out of the driveway, seeing the bag of sweaters in the back seat just out of the corner of my eye.  I didn’t need any more sweaters.

A few years ago, one of my aunts died; I hadn’t seen her for a long time.  That’s how things go in the modern world.  You’re born, you “grow up,” you move away, and you forget your kin.  Modern psychologists and government experts will tell you that it doesn’t matter; that you can make your own family.

You can even call your cat your son or daughter.

My uncle has lived these last few years in the second house he and my aunt built together.  I never visited them in this house but I faithfully sent them a Christmas card every year and as I look at the real estate listing on-line, I can see it was a very beautiful house.  Each image is fit for a House Beautiful or Country Living magazine layout.

My uncle recently sold his beautiful house and has been disposing some of his many possessions, including my aunt’s extensive wardrobe.  Somehow, all these things ended up at my mother’s house and Helen asked me if I would come over to sort them out.

When I saw the pile of clothing, I was overwhelmed.  Beautiful wool blazers, lined wool slacks, pencil skirts, silk blouses, and sweaters of every fiber.  Some things still had the price tags on them.  The little girl in me, who worries that she’ll never have enough or be enough, wanted to take everything, but the grown woman stepped in and took only a few practical and timeless items that I could work into my wardrobe.  I’m wearing one of the skirts right now.

I think I have enough clothes to last the rest of my life.

After I got home with my sweaters and skirts and blazers, I tossed and turned all night.  I thought about my aunt and how I wished I could have spent some time with her in her last few years.  The time for asking questions has passed; I may never know whether she worried about having enough or being enough.

Enough stuff is enough.

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