StoryWorth: The One Thing
What would you save if your house was on fire?
I thought this would be harder for me. I don’t tend to fret about possible disasters, so it’s not something I’d really considered. We have a lot of things and yet I don’t care that much about any of them-in general the things that matter to me do so because they carry memories, or fit their purpose beautifully.
I am assuming, by the way, that Sadie and any people in the house have been safely evacuated before I’m called on to make this decision. Obviously they are the truly important considerations. I’m also assuming that this question doesn’t cover the jewelry that I always wear, or my phone, which I would reflexively grab. That last could be replaced, of course, and I don’t especially care about the thing itself, but having that gone would be an annoying start to the recovery process.
I’m also struck by how much this answer is changed by modern technology. Pictures of my family: copies are in the cloud. Important financial and legal documents: copies are in the cloud. Books, music, and other media: in the cloud. So there are a lot of potential answers that just don’t matter as much any more.
Our beautiful house would be a terrible loss in itself, of course, but I’d also be excited to rebuild and make a new home. I’d probably cry over losing all the family memorabilia that is stored in my basement, but there’s no way I could haul all of that out in time, or choose between any of it, and the most important bits have all been scanned. There are many pieces of art and souvenirs of our travels that I would mourn, but too many to choose from if our lives were in danger.
The one thing that I could think of is the Hirshfeld print.
It’s a drawing of Jason’s uncle, J.D. Cannon, being directed as Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing in Central Park by Joe Papp. We received it as a gift from Uncle Jack’s wife, Alice, shown knitting in the foreground, for whom our daughter is named. It has a lot of meaning to us on a number of different levels, and is absolutely irreplaceable. It wouldn’t be worth rushing back into a burning building to save, but if I were running out the door, that’s the one thing I would grab.
This entry was originally posted at https://lillibet.dreamwidth.org/1317502.html. You can comment either place! There are
comments over there now.
I thought this would be harder for me. I don’t tend to fret about possible disasters, so it’s not something I’d really considered. We have a lot of things and yet I don’t care that much about any of them-in general the things that matter to me do so because they carry memories, or fit their purpose beautifully.
I am assuming, by the way, that Sadie and any people in the house have been safely evacuated before I’m called on to make this decision. Obviously they are the truly important considerations. I’m also assuming that this question doesn’t cover the jewelry that I always wear, or my phone, which I would reflexively grab. That last could be replaced, of course, and I don’t especially care about the thing itself, but having that gone would be an annoying start to the recovery process.
I’m also struck by how much this answer is changed by modern technology. Pictures of my family: copies are in the cloud. Important financial and legal documents: copies are in the cloud. Books, music, and other media: in the cloud. So there are a lot of potential answers that just don’t matter as much any more.
Our beautiful house would be a terrible loss in itself, of course, but I’d also be excited to rebuild and make a new home. I’d probably cry over losing all the family memorabilia that is stored in my basement, but there’s no way I could haul all of that out in time, or choose between any of it, and the most important bits have all been scanned. There are many pieces of art and souvenirs of our travels that I would mourn, but too many to choose from if our lives were in danger.
The one thing that I could think of is the Hirshfeld print.
It’s a drawing of Jason’s uncle, J.D. Cannon, being directed as Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing in Central Park by Joe Papp. We received it as a gift from Uncle Jack’s wife, Alice, shown knitting in the foreground, for whom our daughter is named. It has a lot of meaning to us on a number of different levels, and is absolutely irreplaceable. It wouldn’t be worth rushing back into a burning building to save, but if I were running out the door, that’s the one thing I would grab.
This entry was originally posted at https://lillibet.dreamwidth.org/1317502.html. You can comment either place! There are
comments over there now.