in the getting ready for installing new hardwood flooring we've been sifting through 35+ years of accumulated detritus, doing our best to lighten the load. needless to say, we've come across stuff we've not seen in a while, a v-e-r-y l--o-n-g while. stuff like my mother-in-law's wedding dress and the wedding dress the wife wore when she married the husband before me. those have been hanging out with the dress miss b. wore when she took me unto her bosom coming on to 37 years ago. my question is why? who are we saving these things for, the kids?
if it were up to me, and we all know it is not, there would be a rule. if any given box has not been opened for 5 years, 10, 15, or 20 years. whatever the number, you tell me what's fair, the contents either go to the dumpster or to goodwill/salvation army/lighthouse for the blind--somewhere, but it can't stay here. i'm really thinking about our kids, you know, not leaving the unenviable task of wading through all this crap when we're gone. only one of the three currently owns his own home, the key word in that sentence being his. he's not going to want any of this stuff, he has stuff of his own. the other two have no place of their own to keep it, even if they did want it.
why have we allowed ourselves to accumulate all this mess. sentimental value? that's all well and good. miss b. is not a hoarder but she for damn sure is a world class pack rat, i gau-ron-tee that.
before our oldest got married, miss b. bought 3 linen hankies to be gifted to the brides on their special. day she asked my mom to crotchet a border around each one, a nice touch i thought at the time. when daughter got married quite some time had gone by as she is 11 years younger than son #1. when miss b. was ready to gift our daughter with her hankie, they were not to be found. the house got turned upside down over and again, still she couldn't find them.
the daughter has now been married, coming up on 7 years (i think). guess what turned up in our efforts to get ready for the floor people. that's right, linen handkerchiefs, with the delicate crocheted border so lovingly applied by my mom. miss b. opened up the tissue to show me what she had found. i'm here to tell ya' tears as big as horse turds sprang out of my eyes. just the thought of my mom doing this small thing for her granddaughter's and how long it's been since she passed away, i had myself a little moment there.
i guess miss b. is not the only sentimental fool in the family.