Reflections on Things Left Behind

Some things are left behind; it's inevitable. Every move I have ever made has lost me something or another, even if it was the smallest of things. There was also a big move which intentionally left things with my parents that I was to reclaim at a later date. Some of those things did find their way to being reunited with me and some still sit in a room that I find difficult to even insinuate is mine, since my parents have themselves moved "my room" without me three times themselves.

There is another move that I didn't make that will always be the biggest move of my life. It too left a few nondescript things behind that I find a great deal of difficulty making meaning of. They are there and they exist and sometimes I wonder if they were left behind by chance, by neglect, or malice. I think all three are true actually, because it is not just one thing that got left behind. In the picture below we have a prime example of what I think is probably the middle category. It's just a thing and it doesn't have much meaning at all. In fact the only things that have meaning are the ones that we endow with importance of one sort or another.

I find it difficult to give this particular thing much importance. It is useful and that is nice. Maybe I should just be happy that a useful thing was left in my possession. But still I can''t help looking at it and thinking of who it touched and if they remember it being useful to them. I suppose the right course of action would be to let it go or throw it away, but I'm not one to junk useful things, even when they have a lot more meaning than they deserve.

Looking for Meaning