We tend to accumulate a lot of “things” as we move through life. Some of these things are for a specific use, such as a toaster oven or a drawer full of pens (some of which even work). We hold onto these things for as long as they serve their purpose and do whatever it is we rely on them to do.

Some things we hold onto for other reasons. Reasons that go beyond the basic utility of the thing, reasons that only we may know and appreciate. Things that belonged to people we care about, people that may not be with us anymore. We hold onto these things because they serve a purpose, they are a tie that binds us physically to people we can no longer be in the physical presence of.

Some of these things belong to people that are still a part of our life, but the thing takes us to a place and time that has passed. People, time, places…like time machines, these things transport us.

Of course, like anything, this accumulation of things can go too far. Our time machine can begin to look like a dumpster, so overly laden with things that it’ll cease to take us anywhere. Except, perhaps, to a starring role on the latest episode of “Hoarders”. We all have our things, we just need to be vigilant in preventing our things from having us. So it goes.

This past summer, while sitting alone in the quiet of our cabin, I saw some things that made me think, made me remember, made me feel. Solitude (and a wee dram of rum) can take you to unexpected places, and this time it took me to a song. The song is oddly enough called “Things”. I am quite thankful for all the people that have painted the world I see, and look forward to adding a verse here-and-there as life continues to unfold.

Chorus:

I got things that mean something to me

They belonged to people who painted the world I see

To anyone else these things don’t mean much

But to me they’re pieces of heaven I can touch

Verse 1:

An old John Deere hat that wore upon his head

As he joked and laughed in the shade of his Southwind

A coffee pot pours out a cup of her love

Always serving others, now she’s our angel above

Verse 2:

A drill and hammer well worn by his hands

A well-built life, that to this day still stands

A deck of cards that brought her family together

When you’re young these things seem to be forever

Chorus

Verse 3:

A pair of cleats that he wore upon his feet

Fair and balanced, forever young, that’s what I see

Books of photographs, she’s captured everyone

A heart so big, a smile so wide, she taught us how to love

Verse 4:

A stack of love letters written from her heart to mine

Strength, beauty and devotion, stretching through time

Pictures in crayon that say “Daddy and Me”

Now they’re out in the world, finding what it needs them to be

Chorus

Outro:

All these people painted the world I see

All these things are not just things to me