The Importance of things

This was my flat prior to moving in

Good afternoon all.

Today is Remembrance Day,

Lest We Forget.

November has been,


mild and sunny,

very un November like.

I have been enjoying it.

Been an odd,

kind of a week.

I have been,

chewing on,

reflecting on,

a few things.

I do that,

chew and reflect.

Since my mother died,

in September of 2020,

I have been putting,

a new,

a different life,


I had grief to deal with,

I had affairs to get in order,

I had a move to plan,

I had an apartment to pack,

I had my mother’s things,


to go through, give away,

or keep,

pass on to her friends,

her family.

I had to go through,

what was important to me,

what I attached sentiment to,

what I loved,

what I used,

what I could simply,

not part,


I did that for my things,

as well.


I need to get rid,

of things,

they remind me,

of someone,

I no longer which,

to be reminded of,

many things,



or sweet,

or bittersweet,


But mostly,


are just things,

that you like or not,

that you use,

or look at,

we all have things.


are important,


not so much,


we still like our things.

A few weeks ago,

I gave something away,

to a friend.

I didn’t want the thing,

in question,

I didn’t use it,

I wasn’t going to,

so I gave it to someone,

who will use it,

to teach kids,

I could not think,

of a better use,

for the thing.

The person who gave it to me,

found out,

she got very upset,

she reached out,

she upset herself,

and me.

We are no longer,

in each other’s life,

we won’t be.

It was a gift,

this thing,

but when something,

is yours,

you can do what you wish,

with it.

My intention was not to hurt,

to cause pain.

My intent,

was to make,

my life,


less encumbered,

with things,

with a past,

that has helped me,

to grow,

but, one,

in which,

I do not want to,


I try to be a good person,


I try to be honest,

to be honourable,

I try not to hurt people,


I fail.

I live the best life,

I can.


I should have been,

more reflective,

perhaps, I was insensitive,

for this I am sorry.

I am an imperfect,

work in progress.

Be well you all.

Later girls,


By Bookish Butch

I am a bookish butch in my mid early fifties. I live in Montréal and always have. I used to run a small used bookstore. Reading keeps me sane. My latest jiggie is photography, book project in the works, living the dream

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