I smile graciously and reply, zen-like, "For everything that must be given up, there will be something to take its place. Memories are yours to keep and cost nothing to ship. You must learn to bend like the willow or else you will break like the oak" and other such nonsense.
The fact is, life moves on, and there are tears and goodbyes and regrets along the way. The highs and lows make up life's rich tapestry (I've got loads of aphorisms, don't I?). So I'm concentrating on those free-shipping memories and looking forward to creating new ones on a different canvas, because I can't take everything with me.
I can't take my grandmother's rocking chair, which I've been fortunate to have in my possession for ten years. Now it will go to my sister or one of my nieces.
I can't take my fantastic rotary dial telephone because it won't work in the UK. But I'll sell it for as much money as I can milk out of it.
I can't take my sister, but I can look forward to showing her and my brother-in-law around Wales and England when they come to visit. And my sister and I will always be connected. Not least because I'm chaining her down.
I made this necklace for her because she told me she liked this saying, which she saw in my post at Christmastime. I also wanted a necklace with that saying, so I made a matching one for me that continues the phrase, connecting the sentiment.
I had some little jewels, which happen to be our birthstones, and I added a bit of lace from a pillow our grandmother embroidered. Mine acquired some bubbles while the resin was drying. I'm calling it wabi sabi - beauty in imperfection. Just like life.
And all manner of thing shall be well.