Goodbye, Sailboat Skirt

The short story is that my Subaru got stolen AGAIN, and then I found it six blocks from home. This time the thieves took my laundry out of the backseat (I had it loaded up for a trip to the laundromat).  They left the car and took the laundry. Goodbye, navy skirt with sailboats on it.  Goodbye flannel-soft blue hoodie. Goodbye, t-shirts.

This was—and continues to be—a tangible reminder that “my stuff” isn’t permanent, and isn’t really mine. Stuff rolls in and out like a tide.  I think I’ve shared this before, but it bears repeating: “We cannot save things.  Things pass away. We can only attend to relationships.”  (Barry Lopez).

The night before the car got stolen the boys and I drove to an empty lot near the airport to watch the lunar eclipse. We stood in the darkness as the reddish shadow moved over the moon. Below, cars sped to the airport and incoming planes roared toward the runways. The juxtaposition of the headlights and taillights and landing gear against the (relative) permanence of stars and planets was utterly humbling.  I thought, “we are dust motes on a giant floating rock.”

Sometimes, when I think of how fast our lives flicker in and out compared to the age of the planets, I am utterly confused about why we’re here at all. Sometimes, when I see the screwy things we do to the world and to each other I get depressed and want to check out.  But one of the beautiful things about being a person is the freedom to choose from many possible responses to the human dilemma, and one possible response is gratitude.  Another is open-hearted wonder.  Another is courage.

Who knows why some things happen and other things don’t.  The older I get the less sure I am about most things. But I am absolutely sure that Mr. Lopez is right: stuff doesn’t matter. Relationships matter. Standing in the dark with my sons and looking at the moon matters.

The stolen clothes and car don’t matter.  But whoever stole them does.  I hope she has what she needs.  I hope my sailboat skirt fits her.

And hey, she saved me a trip to the laundromat. So there’s that.