Of losing material things and missing them

I miss my Liz Claiborne purse–black, leather, sleek, and expensive. But I don’t miss it because of its physical attributes. I miss it because of the love and memory attached to it. It’s a gift for Christmas given by my dearest and my most beloved person on earth. It meant so much to me because it was a gift.

I miss my Giver’s Gain notebook jacket–black, leather, neat, and fits most notebooks. I miss if because it was a gift, given by the word-of-mouth business networking group, Business Network International (BNI). It meant so much to me because it reminded me always that networking is good for you as a human being and a business being.

I miss my banig make-up kit and coin purse–multi-colored and really functional. I miss them because I got it from a city down South, a place that I could easily adapt to.

I miss my Parker pen, my Chastity perfume, my business card case. Never mind the ATM card and the checkbook.

Most of all, I miss my Love Without Conditions, Reflections of the Christ Mind, my Bible of sorts–never parted with it, except when I wanted to lend to a friend. Love Without Conditions, a book by Paul Ferrini, was given by my friend Edlynn to my daughter Diwata. I read it too, and I had the nerve to keep it like it was mine! The book gave me everything I needed in times of joy, jubilation, validation, doubt, defeat, fear, sorrow, etc. It was a diamond mine, nothing compared to it when I needed to clear my head and heart of so many things unimportant.

I miss them all, which were contained in the Liz Claiborne purse, because I lost them all to a theft one evening. I was a fool to leave the purse inside the car, which was parked in one of the streets in Quezon City. I thought it was heavy to be bringing along when all I wanted to do is to wind down after tough day.

I hope the theft read Love Without Conditions. I hope he got some inspiration there. I hope he read the chapters there and learned from them. I hope he was enlightened. Too bad if he didn’t.

Like I told my friend Lucia: Material things are nothing. I may have missed them for a while, but now I learned that I can live without them, and that the memory will live on.