In the image above, a small paper-mâché dog sits quietly before a vivid painting. This dog has a story—it was lovingly crafted by my daughter years ago as a surprise for Sinterklaas. While the painting explores the theme of releasing material attachment, the dog reminds me that letting go doesn’t mean discarding everything. Sometimes, what we hold onto isn’t the object itself but the memory, the feeling, or the connection it represents. Listen to where it all began!
My first pair of glasses... A Danish design masterpiece, modern, sleek, and a little piece of Scandinavian genius perched on my nose. Unfortunately, it didn’t stay there long. What happened? Let’s just say nature has a peculiar sense of humour.
It all began on a stormy day. We thought, “Let’s brave the elements and get some fresh air at the beach.” And off we went, everyone piled into the car. The kids were cheering, the dog, a young welsh terrier, was wagging his tail, and I thought, “How bad can a little wind be?” Oh, I was about to find out.
The storm blew everything that wasn’t nailed down, including my dog, Hajo. Young and eager, he wasn’t ready for the sandstorm that raged at ground level. While we swayed like trees in the wind, Hajo got the worst: sand in his eyes, ears, and everywhere else. He went into full panic mode.
So, what do you do as a loving dog owner? You pick up your furry friend. Big mistake. Huge. In complete survival mode, Hajo flailed and snapped at everything in sight. My face was his first target. And then... whoosh! My glasses flew off my nose, carried away by the wind on their own adventure.
I stood there in shock, staring at where my glasses had disappeared. “There goes my Scandinavian masterpiece,” I thought. I briefly considered running after them but quickly realized they were probably halfway to Denmark. Or out to sea. Or perhaps perched on a very lucky seagull.
The next day, I walked into the optician’s with my tale of woe. Thankfully, he covered half the cost of a new pair, offering me a sympathetic smile that almost made up for my stormy loss.
But hey, I still had Hajo. That sweet dog stayed with us for sixteen beautiful years, bringing me fresh air, joy, and many adventures. And honestly, I can forgive him for the glasses. Thank you, Hajo, for a life full of memories – and one unforgettable day at the beach.
What's that one thing you own that's is of invaluable worth? Would you give it to someone else? What would that gift mean?
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