I've been sorting through boxes and bags in my office closet, trying to thin out the clutter.
Sometimes I end up a little alarmed and disturbed by the things we save, often for "sentimental reasons."
I should add here that aforementioned stuff isn't all mine, in the sense that quite a few of them came from my late parents' house in Phoenix... and were not really gone through, for this reason and that.
My mother was by no figment of anyone's imagination a hoarder, but she did save a lot of little "meaningful things."
Now that I am sorting through all their stuff, it's a poignant reminder that what's important to one generation doesn't necessarily mean much to the next. Much as I am sure she saved many things in the belief that I would want them some day, I'm increasingly learning how little I care to hang on to.
I'm told that "family stuff" becomes more important and meaningful as we age, but I am coming to believe that to be rather contingent on how close we feel/felt to our extended family. I was never that close to mine, so my level of caring is somewhat limited.
Does that make me sound cold and heartless? Maybe it does... but there's also something practical at play here — would the grandkids really give a damn about letters and photos of a great-grandmother who passed before they were even born?
It's a hard call to make at this point since the oldest is barely 16, and way more concerned about things closer to his immediate life.
If I use myself as an example, I look at all this stuff and mostly experience it as "boxes to go through and (mostly) throw away." But am I a good measuring stick?
My mother was very into saving things because they were "good and valuable" but I don't live a life that gives me dopamine hits from having expensive brand-name knickknacks on my shelves. And I'm increasingly discovering that what had "value" to her generation has far less value in this day and age.
As I have no particular attachment to any of these things I ultimately end up with the realization that it is ultimately "just stuff" and it's highest and best use is actually in being sold and the proceeds used to pay an electric bill... rather than spend another generation, stored away in a box in a closet.
I guess I am concluding that the proverbial buck is going to stop with me, perhaps in service of our kids not having to sort through endless boxes in the way I am, lately.
If I end up becoming "the asshole who got rid of family stuff," so be it.
I think "possessions" were perhaps more important to my parents' generation, future generations seem more oriented towards having a wealth of experiences than things.
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Created at 2025.10.31 01:37 PST
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