Not MY Stuff!

He's the furthest thing from a pack-rat. He desires order, cleanliness, and minimal items beyond necessary furniture in our home. His office is impeccable and his very tidy desk is lined (very evenly, I might add) with perfectly printed sticky-note reminders. He washes his golf clubs after a round and polishes his Sunday shoes. If he didn't look like he might need counseling to the neighbours, he may just cut the grass with scissors.

Having said all that, he was a happy man when we decided to have a yard sale. The fact that it was for Haiti made it a very good cause and he was doubly grateful.

Terry often talks about backing up a truck to load up my abundance of books and things I've collected over the years and yes, God brought us together to sharpen each other. We're learning, and it's been a bumpy road of growth and appreciating our differences.

HOWEVER, the night before the yard sale, my husband ventured out to the garage to help me set up my tables. A curious man he was, that evening, as he peeked under boxes and into containers to discover that a few of his things were to be included in the sale.

His eyes fell upon his old hockey equipment and I gasped and scolded myself for not hiding it a little better. I knew he had no use for it as he had quit hockey many years ago and had put on a couple of pounds since then, but the nostalgia was thick that night. "Not my HOCKEY equipment!" came the cry.

Well, he just HAD to try it on to show me that he still "had it".

And yes, Babe, you've still got it :)

Next came the wooden shoes. Oh the memories of those ones! We took a little trip down memory lane and then he swiped them and put them back in the closet. My apologies to the Haitians who could have had another couple of dollars from someone willing to buy bright yellow, "comfy" footwear!

Would you believe that a broken back massager and an old robe that rarely graced his body were a bone of contention? A proud owner held them up for a photo but eventually relinquished them to my care. I was beginning to doubt his long-standing reputation of being non-sentimental with material possessions.

And, of course, he had to be a little silly...

Next, was his university jacket and we both agreed that no one else would want a coat that donned his year and program on the arm... unless they were trying to pull off that they were a graduate from McMaster. He had fantastic memories in that jacket, many of which included me, so who could blame him? :) And so, it returned to the closet as well.

Soon, my husband was feeling at ease with releasing some of his prized possessions... as well as... protecting some of them. He would sleep well and then visit us the next morning to see how our sale was going.

I was convinced he was settled with our decisions, until the day of the sale when I strolled up the driveway after helping someone load their trunk, and came upon this scene...


Thankfully, our brother-in-law purchased the equipment and my husband will be able to visit it occasionally at his home.

This blog post is a tribute to the fact that my man can indeed, be a pack-rat of sorts. Gotcha Babe!