Tuesday, January 18, 2022

STICKY

HALLIE EPHRON: A Few weeks back, we were talking about words for the year. Mine was STICKY, and I promised to say more about it...

Merriam Webster defines sticky:


That’s a lot of definitions for a little word, and yet STICKY seems to keep popping up in even more contexts. A newspaper article recently used it to refer to certain decisions:
Retirements tend to be "stickier" than other labor force exits, the researchers wrote. Even so, they expect that an improving virus situation and increased vaccination will allow older workers to return to the labor force.
I’m not even sure what they mean. That the decision to retire isn’t often reversed? Or that it’s difficult (and problematic?) to make in the first place. I like it either way.

Then sticky turns up in an upcoming meeting’s call for presentations: “experiential sessions that help writers generate ideas, get motivated, and work through sticky spots in their writing.”

I use it as a noun to refer to Post-It Notes. I call them “yellow stickies,” even when they’re pink.

Then there’s the person who has "sticky fingers" (a thief), but a sticky person needs to take a bath. Or is overly clingy. A sticky website header is one that stays anchored on the screen when a user scrolls

Finally, combined with icky, it’s become a pseudonym for marijuana. There’s a company, Sticky Icky, that touts itself as the premier weed delivery service serving San Francisco, in case anyone needs to know.

But my favorite meaning is the way that professional organizer Kathy Vines (Clever Girl Organizing) uses the term when she talks about those ostensibly useless possessions that her downsizing clients are so emotionally attached to that they can’t throw them away.

My grandmother’s rubber band ball comes to mind. Or my mother’s reading glasses.

And as I go through my husband’s piles of papers and clippings, whenever I encounter a doodle of his, a little ping goes off in my brain – STICKY – and I set it aside with the hundreds of thousands of other bits of marginalia he left me.

I know my children won’t be able to throw them away, either. Super-sticky across generations.

Look around. What’s a “sticky” object in your life that you don’t need but need to keep?

56 comments:

  1. Sticky objects around here include an old key, now tossed into a drawer. Long ago, it unlocked the door to our house . . . the very first house John and I lived in after we were married. Every time I see it, it makes me smile, so it continues to stay right there . . . .

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    1. So perfect, Joan! This is reminding me that I have the key to our Chevy Caprice station wagon that died a timely death in front of our local library when the body parted company with the frame. They've turned typewriter keys into jewelry -- why not car keys??

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    2. We have keys like that too, we don't even know what door they open!

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    3. I found a small box of unlabelled keys in my dad's apartment. Who knows what they were for or why he kept them.

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    4. We have a box of old-fashioned skeleton keys, to doors that have not existed for many decades. Just the other day I was clicking through a million Pinterest ideas for what to do with them.

      You can make rings and other things from them, by the way.

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    5. I have so many keys, including the keys to my mom’s house, which I saved after selling her house following her death 24 years ago. And I can just hear her laughing at me!!

      DebRo

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  2. Oh, the sticky things! My father's old barometric pressure gauge. My girl scout badges. A tiny (1" x 1.5") English-German dictionary that was my grandfather's. The sticky things from my mom are all lovely - quilts she made, her thread boxes, her seam ripper, a quilted tote bag for carrying a small sewing project places (not that I do...).

    Sticky in the sense of difficult applies to my writing a lot!

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  3. I've never looked closely at the word "sticky" before, Hallie. I think I'll be contemplating it all day! LOL

    I come from hoarders on both sides of my family. There are many things of my mother's, grandmother's, etc. in this house that will never be on display again, but I can't let them go. So kudos to Joan with one key and you with Jerry's drawings. (But for my stuff, just try to find a family member who'd love to own them. Hah!)

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    1. I hear you, Judy - and my basement beckons, loaded as it is with I don't even know what all.

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  4. I love that I'm connected to a favorite view of such a powerful word for you, Hallie! I think when I use it with people to describe what I'm observing: An unusual/atypical force that an object can have, because of what we attach to it personally, that makes it hard to consider living without it.

    It is "sticky" to our fingers and our heart and our minds.

    It's "sticky" because it reveals some thoughts or feelings we have about it, or more likely, ourselves, that we might be surprised to learn.

    It's "sticky" because it can invite other things to be lumped into the same category out of precedence setting, creating a "collection" that has value to someone because of the accomplishment of collecting, not the merit of the individual items.

    And I love "sticky" because it is talking about THE THING, not THE PERSON. <3

    Your grandmother's rubberband ball is a treasure to you. It's small (I'm guessing!) and brings you joy to own. My assumption is that, until there's a critical need otherwise, it's going to be a companion to you all the rest of your days.

    It gets "Sticky" for your kids... when kids inherit treasures, and they say,"Well, this rubberband ball doesn't mean anything to me, per se, but it meant so much to my MOM, and SHE means so much to me... I should probably keep it then, right?" Yeah, THAT'S the Sticky.

    And guess what... I have sticky things in my house too! MANY! Right now, we're at peace with each other, but if I were to move, I know that they're on a chopping block.

    Most often: When we don't have a reason to face the sticky, the sticky remains by default, and our difficult emotions and challenging thoughts can lay restfully another day!

    Thank you for this great piece! I loved it!

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    1. Oh Kathy - I love this so much! You've given me permission to stop angsting about all the stickies ... for now. Thank you!

      And as an aside to our readers, THIS is why a professional organizer can be so helpful when you DO hit a patch in your life when the stickies rise up to haunt you. Downsizing? AAAAAAGGGGGH!

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    2. I'm so glad!!!

      Don't make the angst bigger than they sticky :-) You'll find that, one day, you'll wake and things feel different. Easier. More rearview mirror. It may not be the rubberband ball, but it maybe many other things that you aren't even noticing today, but they're lingering.

      Sticky gets in the way of your goal, but it doesn't have to stop your work. You can work around it and revisit it when you can give it the energy it needs.

      Be well and be gentle!

      Always: Be kinder to yourself than you are to your stuff.

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  5. My mother's childhood stuffed rabbit, all the fuzz worn off, kid glove fingers meticulously stitched over his raveling paws and feet. Wearing overalls my grandmother sewed. His expression benevolent, his embroidered eyes kind.

    How did I acquire Benjamin Bunny? Mom's friend informed her that college girls need a stuffed animal. I refused to consider it, so she dug Ben out of a storage trunk and shipped him with a box of bedding.

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    1. So sweet - My sister Delia has a stuff Pluto (disney!) that she won't give up. And my daughters have made it clear that the stuffies in their old bedrooms are not to be dislodged until they're good and ready to pull the plug.

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    2. I keep my Topsy stuffed Dalmation from my childhood in my office. His spots wore off long ago, and he's had many surgeries, but the underside of one ear is still silky - it was my "blankie" to suck my thumb with.

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  6. I have mug that was given to me back in 1998 when I left one job for my first-ever tech writing position. It's chipped and unusable, but it has Marvin the Martian on it, so now it holds my pens.

    I have a whole shelf of my grandmother's china teacups. And every year I bring out the Christmas ceramics my grandfather painted. I have the nurse figure he painted for my mother when she got her RN, too.

    Lots of Christmas ornaments made by my kids (which I didn't use this year and surprisingly The Girl was insulted - this after years of not wanting to see them on the tree).

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    1. Oh, those kids! There's no pleasing them. All of my pens and pencils are in beloved but cracked or otherwise unuseable favorite mugs.

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  7. I have my late mom's small pin cushion. It does not even have many pins stuck on it but I see the pin cushion every time I open up my barely used sewing kit.

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    1. Lovely - makes me think of my sewing basket which belonged to my mother. Not really 'sticky' because I still use it for mending and the sewing-on of buttons. Though I'd have not the slightest idea where you buy thread these days.

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    2. Joann's Fabric is the chain store, Hallie, although small quilt shops can still be found here and there. For basic colors, CVS and other drugstores usually have a tiny sewing supplies area.

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    3. This reminds me that I have my grandmother’s sewing basket, even though I don’t sew!

      DebRo

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  8. How about sticky as "persistent"? This is a bit gross, but a friend once said she couldn't get rid of something because it was like "snot on a doorknob". "Sticky" is a tad more elegant way to say that.

    Steve is sticky about our dining room set. It's a lovely, solid cherry gateleg table made in Berea, Kentucky, probably in the '50s, and has eight rush-seated ladderback chairs. It is also not at all practical or comfortable to use. Despite being huge, it only seats six, and two of them have to be under an apron, so cannot cross their legs. Two more can fit, but only with a gateleg between their human legs. It's awkward.

    We have two other dining sets, thanks to inheritance, and I want to replace the cherry one with something easier to use, but Steve really doesn't want to part with it because it reminds him of his mother. Who was, by the way, unforgettable.

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    1. I'm working with a client right now in a situation that is a cousin to this. They have an inherited table they love, with different chairs, and the "belongs with" chairs are in the basement. Not comfortable. Needs love. Even when they get love, they won't be comfortable for their lifestyle.

      I'm working with her to challenge her perspective of "But they belong as a set" to "They originated as a set" in a way to help her explore the idea that she can love the table and let go of the chairs, and embrace the chairs that they enjoy sitting in.

      And though she has the room in the basement to keep the chairs she knows she will never use, she's been facing the basement to see what she really wants to FEEL about the way she's using it and the items she's storing it.

      No one else in the family wants the chairs or the table for that matter. It's hers to decide:
      - Do I care most about what a table and chairs does (function) for my life
      - Do I care most about what holding on to antique/doesn't work for us table and chairs says about me and my values?
      - Do I care most about the fact that people before me had these items (and probably little choice about what items to have at that time), and I should be uncomfortable out of respect and honor to them?
      - What would it mean to me if I let go of a particular thing so inextricably connected to someone I loved, even if the thing itself isn't something I'd pick out for myself today?

      Sitting (no pun intended) with what you need your FURNITURE (designed for purpose) to do for you, and why exploring alternatives feel like a betrayal or compromise, has value.

      Being on the same page and exploring the "why" behind the stickiness to each of you is where a shift can happen.

      IN FULL DISCLOSURE: Dining sets tend to be the STICKIEST furniture around, because they are the touchstones to family, holidays, nourishment... Not because of their design - good or bad!

      Good luck!

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    2. Thanks for the perspective, Kathy. We both wanted to keep this dining room set, originally, but after struggling to fit family and friends around it the associations it has for me are no longer as positive.

      I'm hoping we can gift it (or sell it for a small amount) to a friend's son and daughter-in-law. We have known Tyler for 25 years, and it would be lovely to know it's appreciated.

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    3. Life, and feelings, evolve. I hope you're able to find a way to move forward with an option and have the balance of associations leaning towards the positive!

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    4. Kathy and Karen, My sister and I had to deal with these sort of questions when clearing out our parents' house last year. It helped that they had moved to their town house in retirement, and none of us had long memories of family times in particular pieces of furniture. Still, my mother loved her cherry Queen Anne dining table (in perfect condition) with six matching chairs, so it was hard to drop it off at Goodwill. No, the appraiser who cleared out some items for sale wouldn't even touch the "brown furniture." No market for it, or at least not enough of one to make him a profit. I consoled myself with the thought that someone would come across the set in the store and to them, it would be perfect. New family memories would be made at that table. (And my mother LOVED a bargain and hated wasting anything, so I think she would have been pleased.)

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  9. I look around and I don't see anything I "need" to keep. I'm ready to get rid of it all! I suppose though I'll hang on to my 6th grade grandson's turkey he made out of a toilet paper tube when he was in 1st grade. Until it disintegrates, but it still looks very nice standing on the shelf, even if it isn't Thanksgiving.

    Some might say, and have said, that I don't "need" to keep all of my books. One never knows when I might just choose to pick one up and read it again! Hoping none of my books are sticky!

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    1. Oh my, children's drawings and notes. I have drawers full of them. To say nothing of the books books books books...

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  10. My sister is ruthless when dealing with others sticky items. When did she lose her sentimentality, I don't know, but she is great at tossing things? Her husband is fabulous at finding free items that can be reused on their property, so many that they have two cargo containers behind the shop/barn.

    I have been in many sticky situations when I really want to say something but can't or more importantly, shouldn't so I keep my mouth closed.

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    1. Uh huh, sometimes it's not worth the battle. Let it molder...

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  11. Strangely, the pandemic has made me look at my “stuff “differently. Why do I need this? I ask myself. I have started being cognizant of whether I have to move one thing to get to another thing. I have decided I don’t want to move something to have to get to something else. That is a good test!
    And definitely, basements are good sticky repositories. Put it down there, and forget it. But… It is still… There…

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  12. Hallie, I think we need to get Kathy Vines back for another blog on organizing! I love seeing her wise and compassionate thoughts about our complicated relationships with "stuff."

    Ask me about Ross's old flannel shirts I still can't get rid of...

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    1. Julia, about those shirts: why not have someone make some pillow covers from them? You can also give them to your kids. The added bonus is that flannel falls nicely into your hygge style.

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    2. Or a quilt to snuggle with.

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    3. I saved about a half dozen of Jerry's too. I wear them. Possible since with Covid I'm pretty much out of public view, in a crouch and staying warm.

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  13. I’m always trying to declutter and rarely get very far because too many things “spark joy”! My niece gave me one of Marie Kondo’s books for Christmas. But it’s the Kindle version, “so it’s one less thing taking up space in your home, Aunt Deb.”

    From time to time I get into a frenzy and start tossing out things that I later wish I had saved. About two and a half years ago when I was in one of these frenzies I tossed out an item that had been a gift from a friend who had since died. She was a very practical person, and this item was something that she felt everyone needed to have in their home. I couldn’t imagine when I might ever have any use for it, and felt that it was taking up space in a drawer, so out it went. I told myself “she would understand.” A few months later, that item became something that we should probably all have in our homes, a pulse oximeter! So then I had to send away for one. And I soon misplaced it! I sent away for one to replace it because I knew it would take me a few months to unearth it. A couple of months later I misplaced that one, too. I’m in the middle now of a Very Serious Decluttering Project, which my sister has volunteered to oversee to make sure I really save only the most important items. (She’s the mother of the niece who gave me the Kondo book.) Last week I found BOTH oximeters, and I’m keeping them in a box with my vitamins, Tylenol, etc, instead of in the hutch or a bedside table drawer where I had found them.

    And some Sticky items include a small pottery bowl my mom made in Girl Scout camp, and a couple of books written in Italian, which I don’t speak or understand at all, but my grandmother used them when she was tutoring someone in Italian way back when.

    DebRo

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    1. Keep the bowl and the books! Give away one of the pulse oximeters!! We all need a sister (or in my case, a daughter) to cast a cold eye on our piles of stickies.

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  14. I'm afraid there are so many stickies in this house that I haven't even formally recognized them yet. We've acquired more stuff as both sets of parents are gone now. Not going to think about it right now.
    We're setting off on a road trip Friday, a combination visiting Frank's cousins/househunting trip. And I just found out we have to have our house tented for termites. Another major project to deal with when we return. If I don't run away from home first.

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    1. Isn't home ownership a blast? But I do feel my house is my #1 sticky thing. I've been here a loooooong time.

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    2. I hear you, Hallie! There was a time when I could take care of everything that needed done or I wanted done, but now I'm feeling overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work 3 acres takes. But I'm not ready to think about not being in this house,

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  15. Oh, the stickiness of dealing with family antiques. Kathy above listed the questions we should ask ourselves about these items. I have to admit that I'm really sentimental about these items. I love the stories that go with so many of the pieces of furniture my parents had and my husband's family had (fewer pieces of his). I feel like the keeper of the flame and that certain pieces should always be kept in the family. I'm not telling the kids that they have to keep them, but they do know how I feel.

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  16. “…Preserve your memories, they’re all that’s left you.” (Thank you, Paul Simon.)

    What does it mean to "need" something? If your heart wants it, then you probably need it at least for awhile. Stickiness subsides over time and things disappear. Or it doesn't and you keep them. Ultimately, we choose what will evoke our memories.

    My parents were moving out of their condo to a retirement village. My sisters and I were helping them clean out things, dividing up the stuff and packing the rest to move. By this time, my mother was blind. We described things to her as we decided who would get what stuff. Sometimes we forgot and she would say, “You know, that’s mine to give away.” Humbling, that. Two things came with me from that day: a simple clay pitcher and a crystal bowl. I had given her the bowl as a gift at some point. She commented then that I only gave her stuff that I was pretty sure I’d get back in the long run. She had a mean streak did my mother. The pitcher sat on a display shelf in the condo. I had never paid any attention to it, ever. As we described it to her that day, tears welled up for the first time. “The flowers your dad bought on our first anniversary came in that pitcher.” I stopped dead and looked at this so very ordinary thing that meant more to her than all the other lovely, more valuable things she had accumulated over time. It held pride of place for her for 60 years. How could I not have known that? How tone deaf was I? And how loyal was my mother? She’s been gone 8 years now. The bowl cracked and has not survived and I'm ok with that. The pitcher lives on my kitchen island holding cooking implements that I use everyday. I have rather unconsciously chosen to remember the complex person who was my mother with this simple everyday object because it reminds me of that part of her that I liked. That's the thing. There's what mattered to her and there's what matters to me. Both get remembered.

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    1. once again, cd, you've written something here that moved me profoundly. Family bonds are complicated. But I do hope my daughters feel absolutely free to get rid of anything I leave behind, guilt-free.

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  17. I seem to have sticky pets. I don’t want anymore and haven’t wanted anymore for years and yet…I have H2’s fish, we’re fostering a dog, the neighborhood cats - Sweetie, Socks, Sinatra, Pearl, Harriet, little Harriet, etc all seem to find shelter and a meal on our front porch… Sticky, sticky pets.

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    1. When we lived in Manhattan, cats used to "come" to us via the basement. At one point we had 4. The backyards in my daughters' Brooklyn neighborhood are teeming with them. Feral. Most of them have been caught, fixed, and released.

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  18. The first thing that came to my mind was my mother's Japanese prints (brought home from a trip to Tokyo,) which are tucked under our guestroom bed. They don't have a place to hang in our house and are not my style anyway, but I've never managed to give them away. My mom died in 2013, and I had moved her multiple times before that. I suppose they are sticky. What a great post, Hallie, and a wonderful way to think about all the little things that we accumulate, stuck to us like lint on chewing gum!

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  19. I love this contemplation on 'sticky' in our lives, Hallie. Thank you for this post.

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  20. A few weeks ago I dropped something and broke one of the ceramic knobs on a kitchen drawer. Miracle of miracles, I found a replacement I'd tucked away when we put the kitchen together 30 years ago. My son-in-law swapped it in for me. Sons-in-law are also sticky, fortunately.

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    1. I am regularly reminded by my parents that I've given them a delightful son-in-law to count on. Sticky in the best kind!

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  21. I have lived on Nome Street long enough that there is an abundance of 'sticky'. It is a wonder my fingers are not stuck to the keyboard. I look around and think maybe I should toss? and a voice very firmly says 'not today!' so another day passes while sticky stays.

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  22. My husband and I are attached to a coffee table we refinished 49 years ago shortly after we met. We got it in a second hand shop for something like 12 dollars and it turned out to be a beautiful gem: inlaid wood designs that we had expected to be painted on. We have moved several times since then, and that coffee table goes everywhere with us, including our current home in Portugal.

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