Beneath the Mountain O' Dolls

Last night's episode of Hoarders distrubed me in ways I never thought possible.  Phyllis' hoard of dolls? It gave me nightmares.  Thank God my sister-in-law called me in the middle because I really needed to turn it off and I wasn't going to do it on my own!

When I watch shows like Hoarders, I go through a cycle of emotions:

• Shock (C'mon, you can't help but be shocked at first!)
• Sadness (Because these people are so visibly lonely; it hurts to listen to them.)
• Frustration (Dude, that's 17 years worth of DOG HAIR that you're refusing to get rid of.  Seriously?!)
• Sadness (Because after the temper tantrum, there's almost always a moment of clarity for the hoarder.)
• Hope (Usually, the houses get cleaned up!  I always have my fingers crossed that the aftercare provided is helpful enough to, you know, allow the dog hair to be vacuumed up from now on.)

At after it's over, I am left with the realization that material things are not important.  Our memories are important.  And people are important.  Not dolls.  Not teddy bears.  Not your baby blankets or your collection of pint glasses.  All of those things are replaceable.  But relationships?  Relationships aren't.