Thursday, September 8, 2016

An Inventory of My Life

For the last 11 days I have worked virtually non-stop on the inventory needed for the insurance company to evaluate our lives.  It is nearly impossible to remember every single thing you had, how long you had it, and what brand it was.

The kitchen and my bedroom were easier than my sewing room and the garage.  I had room full of fabrics i have collected for 20 years.  I had rulers, patterns, kits from places we visited on our travels.  I had little things, like thimbles, needles, clips, markers.  How does one evaluate that?

The glue sticks I used for the hexies probably cost $10, but to list each thing as a line item is impossible.  I don't have the time to do that either.

I have to provide a website supporting the price so they can evaluate it and a date I purchased the item so they can devalue it.  It is awful to think of my valued treasures items on some impersonal list -- the batiks and the cottons, the thread and the pins, the cooking utensils and the spices, the pots and the ice cream maker, the the dog show ribbons and the photos of my sweet Dutch taking his championship, the magazines I edited and the minutes from the CAAWS meetings from 15 years ago. 

All just items on some list that a stranger will place a value upon.  And most come up as valuable only to me,  not at all to an insurance company. 

It is harder still to think of these things as valueless.  They are so valuable to me, so valuable that they bring tears to my eyes when I think of their complete loss.

And even though we have a policy that has replacement value, we still get 20% lopped off the top. j
Just for fun. 

I guess the  inventory of my life will always be lacking.  It will never be complete.  Or tangible. 

It will just be valuable in my mind until the end of time.


  1. No, your "things" are valuable. And they have value to all of us, though perhaps in different ways, but those of us who are quilters understand that every pin, scrap, ruler has great value...especially when they are gone. Those who have raised and trained a brilliant show dog or horse or calf understand the loss of every little memento. We understand that when something is lost, it may be replaced with another item, but nothing will ever be THAT item. No dress will ever be that dress that Carrie wore to a special event. As parents we get that. It's the memories that you're mourning. And it's okay to mourn the loss of those "things" that were attached to the memories. After all, each item conjures up a specific memory, and who doesn't fear the loss of any memory? We get it because it's our fear, too.

    Gosh, I hope I'm helping just a little and wish I could help so much more.

  2. This was horrible for me too. I wasn't even I to the little things and maxed out my policy. They told me to just stop. Just focus on the biggest ticket items first. My company also accepted pieces at a time as they also had to enter everything into their computer. Just do your best my love. You have what is most important. Frank, Carrie and the fur kids.

  3. I felt just a bit of what you describe when we sat with our insurance agent and she detailed the procedure if we had to use the replacement cost coverage we carry. I remember feeling drained and discouraged when she left and we hadn't even suffered a loss - we only seriously thought about the "what if" scenario. Sending heartfelt hugs as you work your way through this emotionally exhausting process.

  4. that's just horrible! We don't know all we have til we have to itemize every stinkin' cent to buy it again, as if our widdle bwains could remember every little thing we owned. Not til we look for it, and realize it's not there.

  5. Of course money can't replace personal items full of meaning. However, once you are ready and willing, my house would be more than willing to off load, I mean, send you lots of fabric and stash. Although I find the last 20 years a bit restricting...


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