The man with a clear conscience probably has a poor memory. ~Author unknown
I read an article recently that advised everyone to get rid of things their kids would never want.
Things like fine china, used linens, collectibles (Beanie Babies, anybody?), furniture, medical equipment, old cards and letters.
This was before my Mom passed, before I started sorting through her things.
So I scurried to my closet and pulled out a plastic box I’ve been keeping, figuring that was as good a place to begin as any.
As I sifted through cards and letters from years gone by, however, I found myself strolling down Memory Lane.
Birthday cards. Holiday cards — Mother’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Valentine’s Day, Easter, May Day, Christmas. Apology notes. Thank You notes. Congratulatory notes. I Love You notes. Just Because notes. You get the idea.
Gee, you’d think my family had stock in Hallmark!
But after placing a few of these “finds” into a Maybe pile, I realized there was no way I could toss them all out.
No way I want to erase my history, warts and all.
No way I want to deny myself now (and Domer later) the warm, fuzzy feeling of knowing how much love surrounded me.
My box held cards signed by co-workers when I changed jobs, wishing me success.
Copies of letters I’d written apologizing for some long-forgotten slight to a family member.
Hand-made cards with drawings from Little Domer using crayons to scrawl his messages.
Cards and letters from my Mom and Dad in their oh-so-familiar handwriting, offering support and encouragement when I needed it.
Letters from my best friend from forever, who probably knows where all the skeletons reside.
And so much more.
I only found a few things to toss out, and that will have to do. Maybe Domer will appreciate that at least I didn’t leave him buckets of collectibles, stacks of sheets and towels, and rooms full of furniture he doesn’t like. Or need.
But for sure, I can’t part with my Memory Box!
Musings by an ND Domer's Mom 
(Beanie Babies, anybody?) — OMG, sure do, Debbie! In fact, I used to collect them. But what I can’t remember is when (and who) I gave them all to?!?
I smiled all through this post because I too remember going through boxes of cards (that were handwritten) and photographs (that were dated on the backs) from my childhood and being flooded with memories. And do you know what I enjoyed the most? The way they smelled. They had a glorious “vintage” aroma.
I didn’t keep them all. I kept the ones I felt really drawn to hold onto.
Beautiful post, my friend! It brought back some wonderful memories for me too!
Happy Sunday to you! X
Ron, those Beanie Babies were ideal, weren’t they? Small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, and at a mere $5, inexpensive enough that you didn’t feel guilty over buying one. The weird thing is, one turned into two, two into three, and so on. Before you knew it, they’d multiplied like Tupperware containers!!
I’m happy this post made you smile and recall some good memories. I wish Mom had been more diligent at writing identifications on those photos. I guess they’ll be easy enough to part with, if I can’t figure out who’s who or when they were taken.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend! xx
What a lovely, thoughtful post, Debbie. I feel the same way you do about cards and letters and similar treasures. They mean something special to me and someone in the future can throw them out. I’ve also kept some of my parents and grandparents papers. But some boxes from several generations ago had letters from people I never knew and it seemed pointless to hang onto someone else’s memories. I’ve told my children that these are my memories that I enjoy revisiting from time to time and that they should feel guilt-free to dispose of them after I’m gone.
“Pointless to hang onto someone else’s memories.” Exactly, Barbara, and thanks for reminding me of that! With that thought to hang onto, I’m sure going through things and tossing out stuff will become less a chore. I just know I have to be in the right frame of mind to even embark on the task — and now that it’s getting gradually warmer outside, I’m finding nature calling me! Oh, well, there’s always Winter for such chores, right?
I, too, can’t bear to throw away my ‘history’ of relationships dear to me. Books, kitchen junk and old furniture is much easier to part with!
Thanks, Eliza. I’m glad to learn I’m not the only sentimental one hanging onto to memory boxes! You’re right: kitchen junk is easy to part with; books? not necessarily!
We all have memory boxes that are very precious. There is no way to get rid of them. Passing them on is the best thing to do.
I like the way you think, John. Let Domer deal with it! Perhaps, the farther removed you are from the stuff and memories, the easier it is to give them the old heave-ho!
I think that may be true.
The most serious culling I’ve done is of old photos passed on to me. When neither I, nor any of the family members, have a clue who’s pictured, it seemed pointless to keep them around. I finally made a run through a lot of old papers, too. My mother insisted on keeping everything, but for me? A half dozen grade school report cards will do; there’s no need to keep all of them, or all of the valentines, birthday cards, Christmas cards, and so on.
On the other hand, there are some things that go with me on every hurricane evacuation; they’re too precious to risk losing. My mother’s autograph books from her school years and my dad’s first high school shop project fall into that category. But the twenty-seven huge tupperware tubs of yarn that my mother hoarded? Gonzo!
Linda, my mom (and dad) were “savers,” too. Maybe that’s because they lived through the Depression, when times were so hard, and they never wanted to be “without” again. At any rate, I’m still giggling over your mom’s 27 tubs of yarn — golly, she was quite ambitious, wasn’t she? That’s almost enough to start a crafting store!
You know, Domer and I begged Mom to go through her stuff when she was able, but she kept putting it off. I think she didn’t want to “tempt Death” by paring down too much. And so, her refusal to tackle the task has left me to do it. That’s one reason it’s important for me to pare down my stuff at the same time. When you get in the mood to clean, you’re not too particular over WHAT you clean!
I periodically have the urge to purge, but still have SO many things stashed away. As relatives died off, those who cleaned out their stuff gave back all the photos of my kids. I’ve learned to toss them without guilt since I have the same photos in albums. When I die, I’ll let my kids do the purging. I really have no idea what they’ll want at that point! I’ve honestly become less sentimental the older I’ve gotten.
Kelly, I agree — one copy of a picture is plenty; two, even, is overkill. That’s a fairly easy decision for me. It’s harder when I can’t remember Mom telling me who those people were, or what the occasion was, and questioning myself whether I’m tossing out something somebody would value. It’s hard enough with my own stuff, let alone having to do it with mom’s. And she saved *everything*!
I don’t think I could get rid of old letters and cards either, even though they’ll all end up in the dump when I’m gone! But in the meantime it’s nice every decade or so to dig out those old memories of times and people long gone. But yes, I have plenty of other stuff cluttering up my house that I really don’t need and that will just be an annoyance for whoever ends up having to clear out my house! I always feel a bit sorry for younger generations who only communicate by electronic means – it’s not the same as a letter or card, is it? I don’t store emails at all.
I so enjoy a long, newsy letter! Folks used to do that at least once a year (Christmastime), but sadly, that’s deteriorated into those brag-sheets with photos of people I’ve never met. Yes, there’s nothing like a real letter or card to send you right back to a particular time and place. Thanks for letting me know I’m not alone in this!
I agree with you Debbie about keeping a memory box of treasure. I too have held onto a few old cards and reminders that I have been loved. And I have a few very old photographs of those I have loved. Mine are simple treasures that know one really knows the meanings behind, but me. I don’t have children. But I do keep a memory box. It comforts me. I’m glad that you are keeping yours too. 😊
TD, I’m glad you, too, have a memory box. And yes, I find it so comforting to travel back in time through my memories and relive past events. I’m especially glad to have this stuff because, as you might recall, so many of my “treasures” were destroyed by critters while they were being stored in an outdoor shed.
Well Debbie, now that years have passed, we can laugh!
Thanks for attaching the link! While I didn’t read your blog during the charming Dallas years, I recognize many of your readers did. I even understand Monk a little bit more now. Those spectacles on Dallas really gave him the smarts!
Ricky the raccoon was an awful stinkin’ mess!! Even Domer had to put his foot down with the ‘I don’t do sheds’ claim! So funny.
Did the clean man come back? Where are all those legos now? So glad you have your memory box. Stink proof it, if you can!!!
TD, thank you for indulging me in my shameless self-promotion. Dallas was such a gentleman (I do love senior pups!), and as Monk matures, he’s getting better in many ways.
Yes, the cleaning-man did return to finish the job; then, he and another guy dismantled the shed for good. Domer’s Legos survived the devastation (gee, what can’t Legos survive??!), and he took them with him.
I’m on the lookout for a stink-proof box for my memories (probably wouldn’t hurt for a fire- and water-proof container, while I’m at it!)
I have a “Keep Forever Box,” of my children’s art and photos. I love the opening quote!
Aw, that’s great, Cindy! I don’t know how many of Domer’s things he’ll want one day, but maybe he’ll be happy traveling down Memory Lane with them.
I agree with you! There’s no reason to throw out your memory box. For one, it’s meaningful to you and so you should have it to enjoy. But it’s also something that your descendants may well want to read once you’re gone. I have a whole box of letters I took from my mom’s house when we moved her to the retirement complex. And I really value them! Mom said she didn’t want them any more, but I do. Those letters let me “hear the voice” of some long-gone relatives, and some I’ve never met!
That’s it exactly, Ann — hearing those long-gone voices again, reliving days gone by, and learning from the distant past. I don’t go through my memory box often, so it’s a rare treat when I do. It nearly breaks my heart when I see news photos and videos of the aftermath of storms where folks have lost everything. I mean, it’s one thing to throw away your stuff willfully, but how awful having it ripped from your possession.
Exactly! I can’t even imagine!
I very much agree with you. We’ve been doing some “Swedish death cleaning” around here so that our kids don’t have to, but there are some things I believe we should keep. Memory boxes are certainly one of them!
I’ve read about Swedish Death Cleaning and think it’s a fabulous idea! We ALL have far too much clutter and it just feels practical to eliminate it while we’re alive … before saddling our heirs with the conundrum of deciding what mom did or didn’t want. The thing about mementos, of course, is that they tend to proliferate while we’re not paying attention!