Posts Tagged ‘kids’

Declutter – What I Find

25 January 2013 Written by Lois Hjelmstad 2 Comments

As I continue decluttering, I found an old poem in a file. The file was not about poems, but there it was. 

When the writing of This Path We Share: Reflecting on 60 Years of Marriage sort of came to a standstill because I could not figure out what it was about, someone suggested that I write a poem. Good idea, because writing poetry has always helped me clarify my thoughts and feelings. The poem is not in the book, of course, but I thought perhaps you might enjoy reading it. 

What I Really Meant to Say

I thought to write a lovely book
about the paths our marriage took

I wanted all the world to know
that love can grow and grow and grow

that magic doesn't disappear
as long as we just persevere

I wrote of babies and of kids
of accidents and minor skids

with cancer added to the mix
of things we know that we can't fix

I've told of sadness and of joy
events that threatened to destroy

the fabric of our lives thus far
or snuff out our bright, blazing star

Misfortunes came, misfortunes went
I can't believe they're heaven-sent

so faith's been tested on the way
yet is not solved up to this day

I meant to write a lovely book
and simply try to overlook

the times our marriage fell from grace
when we could find no meeting place

but all I found to say to you–
somehow our love has brought us through

© March 20, 2007 Lois Tschetter Hjelmstad

I wonder what else is hidden in the stacks and stacks of paper that surround me?!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Declutter Your Life – Papers

08 February 2012 Written by Lois Hjelmstad 0 Comments

As I continue to go through files, empty drawers, and toss old calendars, I remember that I did a series on decluttering last year. Since I have a lot of new followers, I'd like to post that series again. I will probably edit a bit, too, because anything I've written before always gets edited. Whether it needs it or not.

Here is the first one:

Forget the play-offs, the Super Bowl, and folderol. January at my house is reserved for cleaning my office and files. That's fortunate, because I am usually so tired of crumpled wrapping paper, bedraggled bows, and cartons of half-eaten fruitcake that I am ready to be ruthless!

Of course, with taxes coming up, the financial files were first—the many EOBs (Explanation of Benefits), the twelve bank statements for each of four different accounts, the pages of hassles with the credit company, the receipts from purchases (some for things useful, others not so much), the letters long since answered, the letters that never got answered.

As for the seven other file drawers, each year I try to leave less of my life for my children to sort. There are, of course, a number of items I need as long as I continue to speak and market books. But I also have tall stacks of various marketing strategies that are already out of date. Wake up to 2013, woman.

Some things I leave because I want the kids and grandkids to see me as a real person. Some things I still have because I'd like at least one of the four to say, "Wow! Mom actually did this?!"

And some I keep because I can't bear to throw those parts of myself away—not yet. They prove I am alive.

But now it's the first full week of February and every drawer feels and looks emptier. Many books on the shelves have moved on to someone who can use them now. I cleared the clippings taped to the hutch above my desk so new pictures and pithier quotes can take their place.

And I find this year, as I did last year and the year before, that those pieces of paper, those scraps of history, those little mementos matter less each time I clean my office.

Once again I tell myself that my authenic life-and-legacy resides in my soul and in the souls of others.

Empty those wastebaskets and recycling bins.