Recycling: a Chinese New Year Tradition

Welcome to the Year of the Rabbit! While 2022, Year of the Tiger, was about energy and getting things done, 2023 on the Chinese Zodiac calendar is meant to be one of reflection and relaxation. Well, I’m all for that. But allow me to add another “R” word: Recycling.

Every Chinese New Year, I get the urge to clean out things I no longer need. This is likely a leftover tradition from when I lived in Asia, where people were encouraged to clean out the old and bring in the new, both at work and at home.

As the inhabitants of a rather large farmhouse with many closets and empty rooms, we are the recipients of the castoff furniture and clothing of many of our family members. I am feeling the urge to get rid of some of these things, as they still have use but not for us. My plan is to ask on our family chat if anyone wants these things and then I will put them up for grabs on Marketplace or some other local Facebook page.

This year I will be saying goodbye to: books I did not enjoy (but someone else might); a baby stroller that isn’t great on my dirt road (more for town dwellers); a bassinet; several baby chairs; an assortment of baby toys; and clothes that no longer fit me. Getting unwanted clothes away from my husband is something I gave up on a while ago. He likes to keep things, even if there is little to no chance of ever fitting into them again.

I also need to say goodbye to multiple serving platters, dishes, teacups and oddly shaped plates that I will never use. They came here when my father-in-law moved out of his home and we inherited about 60 years worth of stuff. It can go, along with the Christmas-themed decorations and tchotchkes that came from who knows where. They haven’t made it out of the basement for over 5 years, so they need to vanish.

I know it will take at least a whole weekend to sort these things into a pile in my basement, take photos of each item and post online – but I will be so relieved to see them go. If no one wants them, they are headed to the Score or the Salvation Army – where they will no doubt find a good home. While I’m there I will likely find a few bags of new things to put in my basement – where they will sit for a few years until it is their turn to leave. That seems to be my version of recycling. Works for me.

 

Remembering Dad / Larry / Grandpa on the 15th anniversary of his leaving.

Dear Larry, 

Today I am thinking of the fifty years we spent together and I am so grateful for the memories and our family. 

You are an unforgettable, one-of-a-kind, man who will always be remembered by all who knew you. 

There's a saying that "a life that touches others will go on forever" ... and you touched so many. We are still hearing stories from former students of your impact on their lives, and every June we give your award to two high school graduates going on to further studies in science. 

Your family misses you and keeps your memory alive by sharing your stories and funny sayings.  You will certainly be missed this February when we celebrate your mother's 100th birthday but I know your presence will be felt as we show photos of you. 

R.I.P. Thumper!  You will always be in my heart.  Love, Maureen  XXOO

 

Dear Dad:

“It’s been 15 years now and I still dream of you. I feel your presence in significant moments in my life. I miss you and wish you were here to guide me.”

“Oh, I miss my Dad.” It doesn’t take much. The tears still come easily. Followed by that feeling of a bowling ball rolling to the centre of my gut. An empty space you once occupied. You were my assurance, my reminder, my steadiness.”

We all remember you in different ways, Dad. When we hear a snowmobile ripping by on the trail. When we eat Habitant soup. When we see someone laugh so hard that they go silent, with tears running down their beautiful smile.

Grandpa:

“I had a dream and you were in it. You were in jeans and a crisp button-down shirt, sitting at a picnic table with Grandma. There was a street party going on and you were on the sidelines, observing, blue can of beer in your hand.”

“Grandpa would LOVE this snow.” He loved winter. The chance to race across a cornfield on his Yamaha.

"She has his smile, and his sense of humour." 

We haven't forgotten. It's impossible to forget such a big presence in our lives. Fifteen years. Fifteen minutes. You are still here.