If I could go back to being spoiled, I probably would. Well...In the future, if I am to be spoiled, I would prefer to be able to spoil myself, rather than have anyone else spoil me. My ex spoiled me and yes, it was lovely for a time. However, after the break up, I suddenly missed being spoiled by him much more than I missed actually being with him.
It took a few weeks for my mother to begin to get rid of my father's things. He has closets full of things - clothes, sheet music, old bows and bridges (which were perfectly normal items in my house as he was a cellist). And I became acutely aware that as much as I could still smell him on his clothes, in his studio - he was gone. No matter how many times I walked into his closet and held his tattered tux, no matter how many times I tripped in order to sit and cry on various empty surfaces in his studio, it didn't matter. He was never coming back.
It was then I realized something - things don't matter. This of course is the opposite of how we were raised here in America. And most will probably never learn this lesson, no matter how many deaths there are in the family.
On the one hand, I am glad I have learned this invaluable lesson. It frees me up to do things I want instead of being weighed down by the idea that I need some sort of thing in order to make my life happier, better. On the other hand, I find that my attitude is at extreme odds with the general consensus, which can create quite a disconnect between myself and others.
I have lived and worked with many people since graduating from college, but never did my indifference towards things get me into the trouble that it does here in LA - the epicenter of materialism (like no other). But I remain steadfast in my belief - I know a thing is merely a thing. I know that it's meaning is only in what I ascribe to it.
I wish my father were still alive. And yet, it is wonderful to know that whatever I have of him is in my heart, and not to be found in any other world, material or otherwise.
