The Purse

I would be lost without mine. I think that's how many women feel. Jim always tells me I carry my whole life in there. We've been doing some deep cleaning today. I'm trying to de-clutter a bit. For some reason our tv armoire in the bedroom has become a catch all of sorts. As I was going through the shelves tossing what I could, I ran across my mom's purse. I suppose I didn't really "run across" it. I've known its been in there. I am a lot like my mother in that a purse to me is more functional than stylish. My mom had the same purses for years on end. She had probably had this brown leather one for at least five years.
I was able to spend weekend after weekend cleaning out her house. Going through old papers, clothes, photographs, and just about anything that had passed her and my dad's way over the span of their lives. It wasn't easy but I was able to do it. What I can't do is bring myself to go through her purse. Growing up my mom's purse was hers. When I say that I mean that it was the one thing we just were not allowed to freely go through. My mom was very particular about her purse and when something needed to be retrieved from it, you might go get it for her but you would NEVER open it yourself.
Even when she became ill, even when she no longer had the use of her hands, she would ask for something from her purse and I would open it to get that particular item and leave the rest untouched. And a year and a half later, there her brown leather purse still sits untouched.
So I did it. I opened my mom's purse. Her drivers license, social security card, checkbook and register, pictures of the grandkids, kleenex, change purse- her things, her every day life. The checkbook register records the date when she lost the independence to write- October 2006. How difficult it was for my mom to have me write her checks but there is my handwriting in her check register. A list of my brothers and my contact numbers along with her sisters and brothers information was folded in the inside pocket on a paper titled "In case of Emergency."
All of these things are a symbol of her earthly life. Think about what these things mean to us. How much we would freak out if we lost our driver's license or checkbook. Then think about the fact that when we pass from this world, when Jesus comes to take our hand not one single thing has meaning. Nothing. Not our driver's license, not how much we have in our checking account, not even pictures of the grandkids. When that moment comes and it will come for all of us, the only thing that matters is Jesus.
So I put her checkbook, her change purse, and all of her other things back in her purse and I put it back in my armoire. These are her earthly things and I know in Heaven she needs nothing from this Earth. But for right now I need to hang on to her purse for a little longer and hold on to Jesus a little tighter. My prayer is that I try every day to lead my life placing meaning not on earthly things but on heavenly ones.