Well, the rains finally came, and that meant I had to learn all over how to include an umbrella into my life. But there was another, more disturbing development – my little Scottish umbrella is getting beat up, and that makes me sad.
This Scottish umbrella was the first umbrella I’ve ever owned. And I bought it in Scotland, and it reaching the end of its useful life means one less physical connection to a great time in my life. The scotch I bought (Mortlach, single malt) is long gone. It wasn’t really a Scottish umbrella, except that I purchased it in Scotland, and it was plaid. I’m sure it was made in China or Thailand.
I had similar pangs as my marriage outlasted all our wedding gifts. One by one, over the years, these useful reminders of one of the greatest days of my life simply wore out, or became lost. How does one lose 11 cheese plates?
I don’t really collect mementos that are only useful as souvenirs – I like to buy real stuff I can use in everyday life. I relish the connection between these (often mundane) thingsand the stories behind them. So, instead of posters, stickers or little silver spoons, I buy shirts and glasses and, an umbrella.
I try to be the same way with instruments. I still have the very first guitar I ever owned, although it’s no longer playable, and too cheap to be worth repairing. Every instrument I own has a story – some have very long and interesting stories, and I treasure thinking about those stories almost as much as I enjoy the music that comes from them.
Other instruments have slipped through my fingers. I pawned a guitar once to go on a date with a very special girl, and although I miss the guitar, I still have the girl, so I think I came out ahead in the deal. Other instruments were sacrificed to upgrade efforts – an Aida banjo was sold to buy an Epiphone banjo, for example. But my wife bought me the Aida – so it hurt to lose that connection.
Another guitar – also a gift from my wife –slipped away, but not in a bad way. My oldest son needed a quality acoustic guitar, and having it now reside at this house with his wife is a pleasing continuation of that instrument’s story.
So, it’s not really the things I cherish – it’s the stories within them. The umbrella, and cheese plates, the guitars and the banjos. The good news, even when the “things” slip away, or wear out or get passed on, I still have the stories.
