There are two kinds of people in the world; Keepers and Throwers. I am a Keeper. When we had our party, I had to move a few baskets and mail "holders" upstairs. Because I didn't want to lose important papers, I found them again this morning and started going through to see what was there. I found the car window sticker that was on my car when I bought it two years ago. I found a file of Michael's childhood poems that surfaced some time recently when I was looking for something else, and I put it in the basket and there it is in a handmade folder that I made years ago out of pink fabric and cardboard. Now it is in my front hall where I know where it is. These are precious (to me) poems that he wrote 25 years ago, and has long forgotten. I plan to show them to him when he comes this Christmas. With them is a childhood picture of his father. Keeper.
As I look around my house, I see china that my mom gave me 35 years ago, a few lonely glasses of Waterford crystal that my sister-in-law gave me, one at a time, in Christmas' long past. Most of them didn't make it this far, but I have a few left. Because as a young person, people knew I liked antiques, my aunts and other members of my family entrusted me with family heirlooms that others were not too interested in. I still have them all, and see and cherish them every day.
Over the years I have collected some really nice things, and although sometimes it seems a bit crowded around here, I don't want to part with them. Some things, like old Christmas decorations, are long gone. I don't have any trouble parting with things that I don't enjoy looking at any more. If something has crossed that fine line I know it. My litmus test is that if I have used it well and it has now lost its appeal, I say goodbye.
Until recently, I still had some jewelry that I wore in the late 60's. It was flamboyant stuff, plastic and rhinestones, made for a single 20 year old girl on the loose in an exciting world far away from home. The world was my oyster. And the earrings dropped down to my shoulders and were way too flashy for any era since. Lately, I decided that my reason for keeping them, a future Halloween costume party, was not a good enough excuse and I donated them to a thrift shop. I had kept them long enough. The fun was finally over.
Biting the bullet and saying a final goodbye is hard for me. George and I are foolishly thrifty sometimes, and if there might be some use in an item, we are more prone to put it away than throw it out. I have to work at making a decision to get rid of something. Surplus party coffee cups? No value. Throw. Ouch.
And the saddest part of the story is that we are still bringing things in to the house, when there are many more things that should be going the other direction. I have finally become very very wary of garage and yard sales. If I don't have it now, I probably don't need it. And, the best defense is when I look at something that someone is selling and say, "I already had one of those and I sold it years ago at a yard sale."
What goes around comes around, they say. But hopefully it doesn't come around a second time to me.
