Everything Is Sacred

I'm pretty sure that when my mother sees this photo, her first thought will be, "Oh, I remember that soap!"

Despite the fact that carbon dating would likely place it in the era of the 1970s, this soap will remain fresh in my mother's mind. A gift, perhaps, from me or my brother during our toddler years. Something festive we thought might be useful, but instead has remained preserved for decades as a reminder of happy times, our youth and the promise of a Merry Christmas.

But, really, it's just soap.

The last time I visited my parents, I returned home with two boxes of hotel soap. With my husband gone, I figured it would present a perfect opportunity to make good on the promise of these swiped soaps as useful items, rather than museum pieces.

I dutifully started going through them, shower by shower, hand wash by hand wash. When December rolled around, I came across this festive little Santa and thought, "perfect for the holidays!"

Why had no one in my family done that over the previous 40 years?

Because everything is sacred.

Don't get me wrong. We are not hoarders. But we do tend to ascribe meaning to everyday objects.

Take, for instance, the vintage Christmas napkins my parents brought during their recent visit to me. My mother lamented that she had used one and the box no longer had a variety of three patterns, only two. As fate would have it, I placed them in one of my own piles and couldn't remember where I put them. We weren't able to make use of them after all those years because I had mislaid them. In my own pile of stuff.

When I finally unearthed them, days after my parents' departure, I found myself thinking, "Well, these really are charming patterns. Perhaps I should hang on to them…"

And so it begins. The accumulation of stuff. Hotel soaps, vintage napkins, all have become artifacts in my museum of guilt.

How could I possibly throw away a decaying piece of tissue-grade paper when my parents and, I suspect, my grandparents before them, so lovingly preserved them for some reason unknown to me?

Will these items appear in a museum one day? Sell for $5 on Etsy? Or end up in a dumpster 40 more years from now, as part of my legacy for generations to come?

It's a new year and I think the time has come to live life more fully and embrace all the blessings in my life – hotel soaps, vintage napkins and all.

Carpe sapo, my friends. Seize the soap.

Or perhaps it's time I let them go.