collect

I am linking up for Five Minute Friday. The FMF is hosted by Kate Motaung on her blog Heading Home. Today’s prompt is “Collect.” We’d love to have you join us on Thursday nights for our Twitter party. Don’t forget to check out FMF’s new home at http://fiveminutefriday.com. 

Today was a weird day. I was overly emotional for just about everything - stuff I was working on, things I read on the internet, music I listened to. These over the top emotions were connected to memories. They brought about feelings of regret, loss, pain, sadness... connected to people, places, situations...

Memories are merely collections. They can function as the graveyard for our souls, or the scrapbook of our hearts. Most of the time it's both. Our collection of memories can send us into a tailspin of regret or take us to a place of love and a sense of belonging.

I would love to figure out how to un-collect those memories that bring those feelings of regret and loss and pain. With all the things I collect in my life (books, scarves, kate spade bags...) it's the one collection I'm less than proud of. (My kate spade collection is a distant second.) Because these are collections that cause me to face my own sin and the sin others have put upon me.

Collections are intended to being us a sense of joy or comfort, usually. I have a friend with a collection of Starbucks from every city she's been to. Another who collects ceramic frogs (I try not to judge her for that one), and a friend who always buys a refrigerator magnet when she goes on vacation.

I've tried those different kind of collections. I've never been able to really stick to one. I have a few magnets from places I've been but my refrigerator looks like a half-hearted attempt at my travel log. And don't even get me started on my coffee mugs. That's a story in and of itself. And the frogs... well, thankfully I never tried that.

I'm not good at collecting those physical things that are meant to bring us joy when we look at them. Instead I collect the memories from my past, buried in a dusty corner of my heart that gets swept out once and a while when a email triggers me or a song reminds me of someone I used to love. Or someone who used to love me.