Hold tightly to the things you hold dear.
But what are they?
When I was a child, I foolishly thought that my dearest possessions were things. A treasured book, a diary, a stuffed animal, or a special note. But as I grew, and packed and unpacked numerous times throughout college, I began to realize how untrue that was. With each move, it seemed that some special thing got shuffled around, lost, or broken. But I began to understand something.
The possessions matter little.
The memories tied to those things? I wouldn’t give them up for the world.
Hold tight to your memories, the real things you hold dear. They form a legacy, and tell a thrilling story of your life. Of the people who know you, loved you, and influenced you.
And of course, I still have various knick-knacks that remind me of these memories. There’s nothing wrong with that. But if they broke, or burned in a fire, or were stolen or misplaced, I would be fine. Because they are just a physical reminder of the memories.
And the memories are what I truly hold dear.
Those? Those are what I hold tight. The memories and the relationships.
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