L PURGING
Tossing My Past in the Trash
Leaving behind only a 25-gallon storage tub labeled “my stuff”
I held on to every photograph, every memento from friends and relatives, whether they had passed or were still very much alive.
Hoarding trinkets and treasures from childhood was typical for me. No ticket stub or pressed flower was ever considered junk. Prom pictures of boys I no longer recognize and notes passed in study hall from high school friends I no longer see became a part of my collection.
Stacks of worn-out diaries, autograph books, and personal journals took up a lot of space in the attic throughout the years.
Year after year, I added to the memorabilia. I saved love letters from my husband during our dating years, pictures my kids and grandkids drew, and photographs to mark every occasion.
The boxes in the attic were starting to pile up, but that didn’t deter me from saving anything and everything I deemed important or sentimental.
Until a decision made by my daughter and her husband forced my hand to take control of my accumulated stuff.
Life was good before our daughter and her husband announced they were moving — 600 miles away. I was dumbfounded. I stared at my husband and said…
