No, I Don't Want Your Jewelry

Mom and I at my Nephew’s Graduation

No, I don’t want your jewelry

A few weeks ago, after celebrating my sister’s birthday, I visited my mom before going home. In the middle of our funny conversation, she shifted her tone to share with me what I can have of hers now. We both knew she was referring to giving me some of her personal things before she left this earth.

Not the vibe I was going for in that visit. The shift in conversation made me solemn. It’s a conversation many of us should have with our loved ones, but don’t like to.

Anytime I am with her, my beloved mother finds a way to talk about what she needs to give away that she doesn’t need any more and won’t use again. The subject makes me uncomfortable. Yes, the notion of my mom passing away is a thought I care not to spend too much time on. But what is also uncomfortable is refusing personal items from a woman who is the reason I exist. “No, I don’t want it,” I say in my head, not aloud.

There are a couple of reasons I refuse:

At the end of the day it’s all just stuff.

I don’t need more things to pack when I move.

When my father passed away, I remember loading my Ford Edge with suits, hats, coats, and sweaters to donate to a clothing ministry in Columbus. These were only a fraction of the items from his closet.

Considering all the material items left behind by our loved ones when they pass, I ask a question and confirm a fact, “How do we collect so much stuff to be left behind? And, “All that stuff means nothing compared to the chance to talk with that person one more time.”

Since 2012 I’ve moved residences four times. In the United Methodist Community of clergy and their spouses, jokes about boxes are shared all the time. Mainly we joke about how many boxes we moved that remained unopened. Stuff! In the itinerant system, you learn to hold on to what you really need and release what you don’t. Each of my moves resulted in a significant donation to the local Goodwill.

Don’t get me wrong. I love nice things, thanks to my parents. But accepting items that end up just filling space doesn’t seem right to me when I already have too much stuff.

My emotions conflict with telling a woman I love, “no”, and receiving an item I won’t use that will sit in a box. The best way to accept what my mother wants me to have is to consider how I can share her legacy through that item. What do I mean?

I can accept a cookbook of hers to create a meal to share her love of cooking with others. I can accept sewing items to continue to create beautiful aprons with the skills she taught me and the stories she told while she was my teacher and I her student.

So, although I don’t want more stuff, I can learn to accept what she gives me as a gift to share her creativity, care, love, and hospitality with those around me. This is a way to say “yes” to my mom and to share her legacy with the world.

This entry was originally written in July 2022. My mother went to her eternal home on Wednesday, September 28, 2022.