Being realistic

I recently wrote a publication where I talked about attachments, in that opportunity I commented on how difficult it was for me to throw away part of the archive of the times when I was a teacher, each one of those papers had a great meaning for me. I had momentarily closed that topic.

But after reading the post of our friend @lizelle, in the @silverbloggers community, where she tells us how difficult it has been for her to choose the indispensable things to take to her new home in a smaller space, I felt the need to write again about those moments when we have to throw away things that have had a great meaning in our lives.

Two weeks ago my wife convinced me to clean out the top of the closet in our third child's room. That space was pretty much the same as it was when he lived with us, and neither my wife nor I were sure of the things that were there.

My third son was the first one who decided to emigrate, it was in 2007 when he said he was leaving because he did not like the way things were going here in Venezuela, he was twenty-two years old. A friend had invited him to Spain and he decided to accept the invitation. At that time he was not sure if he would return, so he packed a good part of his things and put them in his closet.

As time went by he decided that Spain would be his new home, he has made his life there, he has his family, with his wife and two beautiful girls.

After eighteen years my wife and I decided it was time to clear out that closet.

The first thing that caught our attention when we started going through things was a huge box where my son had a collection of magazines on a wide variety of subjects, from pop culture of those years at the beginning of the 21st century, to photography, which was one of the things he was passionate about.

Now in my country you don't see magazines like that anymore, the paper newsstands and magazines have almost completely disappeared, people read things on the internet. I don't know if it's like that in other places too.

Another box contained a lot of drawings and designs from the times when my son studied his career as a designer, there were very nice things and my wife decided to take some of them to bring them to my son on his next visit.

At the back of the closet was a large duffel bag, the kind soldiers use when they go to the army. I remember that this bag was a gift from a friend who served in the military when my son was still a teenager. Also in that space was a small two-person tent and an old sleeping bag.

In those years my son liked to go on excursions with his group of friends, the favorite destinations were the beach or the mountains, they were daring and they even did some risky things.

On one occasion they decided to go in a small Fiat Uno to Merida, an area of quite high mountains, where it can be very cold; there are times of the year where a part of the road is covered with a small layer of snow, it is the only place in our country where you can see snow.

That time they left Maracay almost at mid-afternoon, the trip to Merida is about eight hours. At nightfall they were near the "Laguna de Mucubaji", at more than 3600 meters above sea level, to get there you have to leave the main road and drive a few kilometers on a dirt road. They had no idea how cold the area could be, there are times when the temperature can reach four degrees Celsius. They decided to camp even without the proper equipment.

When they returned to the house my son told us how badly they had done on that camping trip. As the night went on, the cold became more and more intense, and at one point the boys did not know what to do, the cold was drilling into their bones. They left the tents and locked themselves in the wagon, but nothing, the cold did not stop. The night was so dark that they were afraid to return to the main road.

My son told me that they were all crying, hitting each other to see if they could get warm and the cold was coming out of their bodies, and they stayed that way until the first rays of sunlight arrived and they had enough light to return to the main road.

Many times my son has told me that back in Europe he has been in places where the cold is much stronger, where the temperature they had in Mucubají is like child's play. I really can't imagine such intense cold.

In the end, my wife and I left the closet completely unoccupied, I must admit that despite the time elapsed since our son left, it was not easy for us to throw away and give away so many things linked to beautiful memories.

But there comes a time when we have to be realistic. For us it made no sense to continue keeping so many things that were useless and that only served to accumulate dust. Getting rid of all that was the most convenient thing to do.

Thank you for your time.

Translated with DeepL.com (free version).

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Until the next delivery. Thank you.

The photos, the digital edition and the Gifs are of my authorship.

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