In any household, junk accumulates to fill the space available for its storage. ~Boston’s Irreversible Law of Clutter
They say one man’s trash is another’s treasure, but I can’t think of a single soul who’d be interested in the old storage shed Dallas told you about a couple of years ago.
It’s empty as a box of chocolates hours after Valentine’s Day.
But it’s still here.
Perhaps I should explain.
The reasoning behind acquiring a shed in the first place was that paying monthly rent for a unit across town didn’t make sense.
Nor did it make sense to cram it to the ceiling with things nobody in this family needed or wanted.
If you haven’t used something in years, or it no longer brings a smile to your face, why hoard it? Once we’re dead and gone, our offspring will have to dispose of it, and the young ‘uns don’t appreciate our “stuff” the way we do.
I’ve long been a fan of purging excess. I make three stacks — one to keep, one to trash, and one to give away.
But I’m in control of the decisions.
With this shed, I wasn’t.
I procrastinated too long to clean it, leaving it victim to undetermined furry creatures and ANTS.
After our handyman’s first pass-through, I set off some chemical bombs and locked the door behind me.
Afraid to go back in to separate.
Eventually, the handyman returned and dragged out box after box, awaiting my decision on disposal.
Most, I callously trashed.
Without knowing what was inside.
Now I’m starting to remember:
- My scrapbooks, lovingly put together and serving as a record of my life from junior high on
- My photos, painstakingly compiled into albums and serving as a visual reminder of good times
- Mementos of past jobs, former co-workers, and the Domer’s old baby clothing and logo T-shirts from various sports
- My college textbooks and yearbooks
- Wall hangings, a candlestick from a long-ago church renovation, old stuffed animals.
I’ll probably think of more.
So while I’m delighted the only thing left is dismantling the shed and hauling it off, I rue my haste.
What’s gone that I should have kept?
On the bright side, I’ve got a huge start on uncluttering, and nobody can take away my memories!
Memory… is the diary that we all carry about with us. ~Oscar Wilde, Irish poet and playwright