As I mentioned in my last render, my mother had passed away. It wasn't a long time that we had before we had to vacate her apartment. Upon really looking at those things that remained, it hit me; our lives seem to boil down to those things we leave behind for other to deal with. Aside from dealing with dispersing possessions, there was just things -- and my mother didn't have a ton of meaningless stuff -- just things which either were necessities, or gifts which had meaning to be dealt with. There was a car which had to be sold, and furniture which had to be moved out. It's now all handled. I don't know how to feel, it was sort of a surreal experience, and much different from when my father passed away. Perhaps it because the furniture which had been in the family came home with me, so there's something familiar now in my environment, I don't know. Things just feel different. Having driven by the house I grew up in, it felt different. Driving through the town I grew up in, it felt different too. The world feels different. The one thing which isn't different is that the memories are still there. It's those memories that were shared with those things which give them meaning. So there might have been things left behind; and making them go away seemed at first like an impossible task, but those things which mattered were the things I we took home with us. The rest was just stuff, and it wasn't quite as important what happened to that. Some was given away, some donated to charity, and some disposed of too. I guess in all, it taught me to not leave behind piles of stuff, but leave behind memories and family treasures. Leave behind those things which mostly other will want to take home, and perhaps take home because of the memories that are connected to them. Thanks for viewing and listening to the stuff I had running through my head the past couple weeks.