While things themselves aren't important, sometimes an item can remind us of a person, a happy memory, a moment in time long gone but not forgotten.
I love to surround myself with things I love, usually representing a memory. My bedside table is filled with memories.
*The table itself, my Grandma's sewing table, lovingly painted a pistachio green by my husband.
*A Yoda sticker, which I would never keep on there usually but Jacob put it up there for me (he knew I liked Yoda best) and I can't bear to take it down now, or even correct it to make it centered and straight.
*A Faith crock that Becca got me for Christmas.
*A Rainy Day Fund jar filled with coins, which was Jacob's.
*A Joyce Meyer book that my dad gave me.
*A lovely bird lamp that I bought at my aunt's consignment shop that fits in perfect with my bird decor.
*And hiding inside the drawer of the table? Some treasures of Jacob's that I have found around the house since his passing.
Life is a collection of memories.