My freshman year in college, I was introduced to the philosophy of critical thinking, something I had never considered before.  I just grew up thinking (actually, not doing much thinking) that I should believe everything authority figures told me and not ask questions and do as I was told.

In my freshman English class, we read an anthology of critical essays.  One presented a contrast of sentiment and sentimentality.  A totally new concept for me, but one that influenced me greatly for a number of years.  Just as it took me many years to recover from doing as I was told, I am still in recovery on this business of sentimentality.  In fact, in my dotage, I am re-embracing it and trying to accept about myself, that I affirm certain aspects of it.

I am extremely sentimental about my redwood trees and some of my roses.

This one in particular.  “Bewitched.”  I first loved it in George Koernig’s garden.  Then, when I planted my first rose garden, under George’s patient tutelage, I included this variety.  George taught me everything I know about tending roses and always referred to me as a “fellow rosarian.”  When I planted my roses at 1880, it was a bit difficult to find this old rose, but I was persistent.  Each year when I prune my roses, I spend the time remembering all sorts of things about George.

I, and most people in my age group, are tossing out stuff.  Most say they are doing it so their kids won’t have to go through things when they die.  I am not doing it for that reason.  I seriously hope that my daughters will just have a dumpster delivered for what I haven’t managed to discard and hire someone to throw it out.

There will be a few things.  

This is a cartouche:  Elizabeth and Jean.

This is Mother’s sewing machine.

This is the Maggie Bee.

This is peeker man.

Recently The New Yorker moved it’s headquarters from Times Square downtown to the World Trade Center.  Nick Paumgarten wrote a short piece about all the stuff he had to toss out and concluded with, “The thing that’s worth keeping is the thing you do next.”

That’s a sentiment I can embrace, but the next thing I do is often to scan photographs before I toss them out. You can’t scan a lock of hair and you can’t throw it out.  Does that make me a sentimental old fool?  I embrace that!