In my house, there are things I won’t let go of–no matter that they’re old, no matter that they often clutter my cabinets and tables and wouldn’t be called wonderful interior decoration. From the old 19th century portrait of my Grandmother as a little girl, to the Love Seats my parents bought for their first home, to the old rosary that hung over the bed of my husband’s grandparents, and many, many more beloved and old “treasures.”
These are things I have to keep–and keep them within my view.
Memory comes from such as those. The idea that a small part of important people in my life are remembered in those things is comforting.
In my life today, there are also people and things I won’t let go of. No matter that they sometimes disappoint–as I sometimes disappoint them.
This is a disposable society. Something gets worn or doesn’t work, we tend to throw it out rather than fix it. And often, we do that with people–acting as if people are things.
Not everyone can be ‘fixed’ by us. But we can stand by them in their trials. We can keep them in our view, and help, or console, them when we can.
Shouldn’t we be the kind of people who realize that true happiness is not found in riches or well-being, in human fame or power, or in any human achievement – however beneficial it may be – such as science, technology, and art–or in any person, unless we see God’s image in them?
And shouldn’t we hold on to that?
Translating a World on the Edge 