What a Box of Old Photos Taught Me About Living More Freely

Blog by Gem Fadling

Alan and I have been making our way through our garage slowly but surely. We are on a mission to prune and purge. Because my parents died when I was relatively young (I was 26 and 31, respectively), I ended up with a lot of items that have memories and sentimental value attached. Many of these items have been stored in our garage or attic for thirty years. That’s a long time to hold on to things.

I imagine it is common for us to hold on to items that connect us to loved ones who have passed. If I get rid of that, I thought, I will lose my connection. For example, I still have my dad’s old Stetson hat and cowboy boots, as well as his military uniforms from World War II. I only had him on this planet for twenty-six years of my life. How could I possibly let go?

It is very difficult for me to make all these decisions as an only child. Of course, Alan is here to support me, but it does feel like a heavy load.

But now that I’m in my sixties, it really is time to start purging. I can’t carry all this stuff around forever. It would be unkind to leave all these decisions for my sons to deal with in the distant future. So over the last couple of years we have scheduled appointments with ourselves to stand in the garage for fifteen minutes and see if we can make headway. Fifteen minutes usually turns into two hours, and that’s OK.

I have successfully purged multiple sentimental items. What is left are three big trunks of photo albums containing multiple sacks of photos and memorabilia. Photos are the most difficult to throw out because they are visual representations of a person’s life—snapshots in time.

The last time we went through a photo box I decided to be as ruthless as possible. I was going to throw away 80 to 90 percent of what I looked at and only keep the top 10 to 20 percent of the images that were representative of the time or the person.

Other people may have different views on this, but I really wanted to downsize my memorabilia. I did my best to follow Marie Kondo’s advice when going through the photos. I looked at each one as quickly as possible and asked myself if it sparked joy. Some were obvious keepers.

But with others—such as hundreds of photos from one family reunion with all the cousins and aunts and uncles—there was no way to keep them all. So I sorted through and kept only a handful of representative photos of each person or family group.

As I stood there in the garage holding an old black-and-white photo, I was prompted to think, Someday I’m going to be a photo in someone else’s hand, and they are going to decide whether to keep it or toss it. It’s quite a humbling thought—and a little depressing.

After that first thought floated through my mind, another followed right on its tail: So, Gem, what are you so worked up about? It’s probably OK to stress less about pretty much everything.

I had a momentary flash of what felt like a pure letting go—a kind of detachment I hadn’t felt before. It felt really good. Unencumbered. Free.

It only lasted a minute, and I was reminded yet again that my life here is fleeting. This has become an important theme for me in this season because I’m trying to let go of the unhealthy version of drive and ambition (ego) in my life. I want to live in-process and enjoy the moments and the people.

Once in a while it’s good to remember the main theme of Ecclesiastes: “Meaningless, meaningless, a chasing after the wind.” Or as my spiritual director likes to call it, “trying to hug a cloud.”

In whatever season of life you find yourself, it’s OK to pause and remember that life is short. An unhurried posture helps us remember this. When we are unrushed, we have a chance to remember that God has given us this great gift of a life.

I no longer want to waste any time in fretting, worry, anxiety, pushing, driving, or distraction.

I would rather love every moment that I have. Because yes, someday I will be a photo in the hands of a distant relative, and they will be deciding whether to keep it or just give thanks for the memory and throw it away. And I am learning to become OK with that.

For Reflection: 

• How good are you at letting go?
• What is one area of your life that could use a little purging? When might you take a next step?
• How are you trying to “hug a cloud” these days and how does that make you feel?