I did lose almost all of my possessions when my marriage ended. It was fine, it was cool. You just start over again. It doesn’t mean life is over. That was how I saw it at the time.
There are plenty more possessions to be had. Of course some are more important than others, like old photos. Mementos. Those are irreplaceable.
The day, or I should say, the couple of hours he allowed me to physically move out of the house, I didn’t think to take all of my photo albums.
I was worried about having the bare necessities the kids and I would need to live in the next week or so, some clothes, special items, the couple of pieces of furniture he allowed me to take, etc.
All of the other “stuff” that’s not necessary to live, I would get down the road. Or so I thought.
But he was angry. And when weeks passed and I started thinking about all of those extra items from the downstairs storage room, I realized I’d better start inquiring about getting some of it.
So I asked for my photo albums. They were all mine as far as I was concerned. I bought the albums, I had the pictures developed, heck I took most of the pictures!
But he said no. He said you had your chance to take what you wanted. I argued that they were way more mine than his but he wouldn’t budge.
Thank goodness my oldest daughter proved to be my greatest ally and she sneaked them out of the house one by one and I got them back.
All of them.
I think I’d be more sad today to lose my possessions, than I was at that time in my life. My possessions now are more true to who I am, and I’ve accumulated them on my own. So much of it is thrifted and secondhand but it’s even more valuable to me, than what I had before.

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