I have difficulty emotionally letting go of both cars and luggage. Once I’ve driven a car for 8 or 9 years and it has taken me safely wherever I wanted to go, trading it in seems like such a betrayal. Likewise, it’s hard to let go of a suitcase that’s collected memories like the stickers they used to put on the old steamer trunks.
Yet trading up to a new set of luggage had become a necessity for my husband and me. Even though we didn’t particularly want new luggage, we needed it. No really. We’d already had the zippers on the old set repaired once, and had resorted to using paper clips for zipper pulls. Each bag in the set is pretty well coated with airport grime, the faux leather trim is scraped off in many places, and the linings are ripped and holey. It was time.
I look at the new bag we bought (shown on the right) and it’s exciting to imagine all the places it might go with us as we move into Act 3 of our lives; but I look at the old bag on the left and remember all the places it’s been.
I have so many memories of the old bag laying open on our bed as I struggled through packaphobia before any one of the trips I’ve been blessed to take—often with a cat or two curled up inside hoping to go along unnoticed. That bag has been on numerous trips to visit grandchildren over the last 10 years or so since I bought it on sale at Sears…one of a nesting set of three for about $100. (The day I bought it I never dreamed it would last this long.) It’s carried Christmas gifts, birthday surprises, stuffed animals…you name it.
I can’t begin to remember all the vacations this bag has taken, but I know we pulled it for what felt like miles over cobblestone streets in Venice a few years ago as we looked for our hotel. That may be why the wheels are a bit wobbly. It was also on our 25th Anniversary trip to California in the Summer of 2013. Did it enjoy traveling the Pacific Coast Highway from the back of our rental car as much as we did from the front seat?
Maybe my affection for luggage stems from the fact that, like a long lost friend, I’m always so happy to see it again after a separation. When my bag emerges from the belly of the airport onto the carousel at my destination, my heart skips a beat and I’m silently screaming, “There it is! My bag made it!”
I know suitcases don’t have feelings (well, I don’t think they do!) but just before taking this one out to the donation pile I wanted to stop and acknowledge how grateful I am for all the times it traveled alongside me, showed up when I needed it most, and fulfilled its purpose well. May the same be said of me some day.
Ah, yes, Nancy. My luggage, too, has been places I never dreamed I’d see. Now it has waited, neglected in my closet, for someone else to take over. This will happen this week when my daughter goes on a short-term mission trip to Thailand, a place I’ve never been, but which I’ll see through her eyes. When she returns home I think it’ll be time for a new set of luggage for her so she can add to and build her own memories.
Thanks for sharing, Nancy. (I’m sure it will be said of you, “Well done. You’ve run a great race.” Love, Betty
Thank you, Betty! Just got home from the “virgin voyage” with the new luggage. It’s a little worse for wear but worked fine. Glad your luggage can take you places vicariously now! Much easier.
Oh, Nancy, I think all our hearts skip a beat when we see your welcoming face and read your words of inspiration and counsel. You are truly one of life’s best traveling companions!
As are you, my friend. Thanks for the comment.
Your gratefulness for the memories tucked inside the old suitcase is a genuine and touching tribute, Nancy.
In my old suitcase I still have two “handprinted” and colored notes from my grandchildren. One remains tucked in a side compartment; the other is firmly stuck to a corner because of spilled cough syrup. My many memories were so strong that I kept the old suitcase and packed it with school art projects and the kids’ sports t-shirts and letters and gift cards–packed in zip-lock bags–and the suitcase sits at the back of the closet.
I’m so thankful for the travels, the family meals, the attendance at their school and church events, and all the little joys we’ve shared in their lives that I doubt I’ll ever choose to dispose of this old suitcase.
Great idea to use old luggage for special storage, Marylin. Thanks for sharing.
Nancy, as each of us reads your luggage stories, I bet we’re all also reflecting on our own. Here’s a quick one of mine: We have a very common toy poodle that the name Spud fits him perfectly. Spud is a rescue dog, and like many others, he has a few little quirks. When he sees the luggage being brought upstairs from the basement, Spud all but has a nervous breakdown and hides under the bed because he knows he’s about to be left at home, yet again! Now, I sneak the luggage upstairs when he’s outside, put it on the bed in the spare bedroom and pack it there to spare him of additional duress. Cats … Dogs … and Luggage … all critical elements for a very good life.
That’s hilarious. Some day you may open your bag to see that Spud was packed as well!
so happy that your bag will be banging out of the belly of the flight bound for Phoenix today!
Me too!! It was wonderful being with you.
I have a thing for suitcases too… even those belonging to others. When we purchased our home, there were but two things in the attic: an old tufted headboard and a small leatherette suitcase. I opened it to find a stack of letters written to “Phoebe” along with a few saved paper clippings and such. Sixteen years later, Phoebe’s letters are waiting for her in her dusty suitcase should she ever return for them. That’s not a far-fetched concept. After all, the son of author Elvira Garner , a native Tennessean, once showed up on our doorstep to take a trip down memory lane.
Elivra Garner Bio: (http://articles.orlandosentinel.com/2012-01-29/features/os-dickinson-florida-history-0129-20120129_1_first-book-sanford-museum-national-book-fair)
Ms. Garner, a widow, had once owned our home which she shared with her son Douglas until he went into the military. Douglas, a retired NASA scientist, showed-up – his bride of 50 years in tow – to share a photo of them being married in front of our living room fireplace. They requested to see it again for old time’s sake. I learned so much about our historic home that afternoon as they recalled the post WWII days of their early beginnings; and, I treasure the photo of young love’s pledge at our hearth complete with magnolia blossoms. From that day, I’ve held a sweet kindred feeling for the author I never met who wrote in this house before me.
Just as the Garners surprised me with delightful insights that summer day, maybe Phoebe will miss her little suitcase and show-up to fetch it and reveal another chapter in our nearly 100 year old home’s story written in the shelter of the embrace of two huge Live Oaks. Until then, the suitcase is safe with me in the company of graduated stack of leather strapped suitcases in the foyer which house precious cards and correspondences, note cards and stamps. And then there’s the other set of luggage in the spare closet bulging at the seems with travel memories. Nancy, what’s not to love & cherish?
You are so kind and insightful to hold on to a suitcase that may hold special memories for someone else, Charlie. Thanks for sharing your stories.