In the process of looking for something else, I came across an oversized envelope that I must have thought I might need or enjoy one day in the future. My curiosity got the better of me as I peeked inside. Lo and behold, a treasure! Artwork dating back to when my daughter, the aforementioned artist, was in preschool. As anyone could plainly see, the girl had talent, according to me, the one who took great care to tuck her work away for the past 50 dang years!
What was my plan going forward? Should I gift the treasure to her come Christmas? Should I share it with her today in front of the family as I beam with pride that I have salvaged this priceless bundle? Unable to make a decision, naturally I put it back on the closet shelf where I found it. I’ll put off a decision a little longer. After all, it’s been this many years already — what’s a couple more months?
Artwork by Gayle's daughter, dating back to pre-school.Gayle Foster
Her daughter, my granddaughter, stopped in to visit and I couldn’t stop myself from sharing my find with her. She was totally unimpressed. “What are you going to do with it, Gramma?” she asked. She encouraged me to just throw it away. Really? Something holds me back. What is going on in my little old head? I didn’t remember having this folder. Someone else could have disposed of it years ago and I never would have missed it. Naturally I put it back on the shelf.
But I got to thinking about all the clutter taking up space in our house and barn. We are not hoarders, but we have plenty of things we have no need for any longer. More things like the envelope of historic art and who knows what in the desk drawer that seems to be permanently stuck.
I have no idea how online sales work. I only know I have quite a few things someone else may want. We spent good money somewhere along the way to buy enough Christmas items to fill several large Rubbermaid totes. I have my grandmother’s silverware and my mother’s Hummels. Ol’ Bill has his grandfather’s old shotgun and hunting licenses from years long gone. We have stacks of dishes we never use. We still have a selection of our children’s Fisher-Price toys, including “little people.”
I have a small footstool my dad made in junior high (!) and I am not parting with it. Dad would be 107 if he were still with us, to give you an idea of the age of the cherished footstool. We still have our parents’ driver’s licenses, for Pete’s sake. I’m pretty sure no one wants those. Well, maybe my brother. He’s pretty sentimental about things like that.
But the rest of the family? Not so much. Today. And there’s the roadblock. Every so often I’ll remember a little knickknack from my childhood and wonder whatever happened to it. That was way before the days of garage sales. You gave stuff away or threw it away. Or kept it in a mothball-flavored cedar chest in the attic. Oh, how I wish I still had that stack of movie star postcards I collected from the penny arcade!
My granddaughter, who stood (past tense) to inherit a ton of goodies from us one day soon, put it bluntly: “No one wants your ‘stuff,’ Gramma!” Okay, kiddo, you just might want those vintage glass plate and cup sets, cookie tins and my cherished child’s tea set and they’ll be gone! Your brother will wonder what happened to that collection of Matchbox cars and Grandpa’s pocket knife collection.
Either we bite the bullet and get rid of it or you inherit it all and get the joy of disposal. Either way, we’ll be gone and from what we’ve heard, we won’t be allowed to take it with us. Sorry.
