Treasures or Trash

Considering I do not present myself as a pack rat, I have acquired quite a collection since leaving my parent's home twenty-five years ago. Prior to beginning this task, I was totally convinced of the idea that my three children must have placed most of the litter in the basement there. Before the knot was secure in the first trash bag, realization set in that much of its contents were older than my children are.

After the first couple of hours of sorting, tossing, and expressing regret, I began to question my actions over the many years. First, why in the world did I think that my sons needed thousands of sports cards and those tiny small little bouncy balls that you can get in every twenty-five cent vending machine? Some parents are lucky enough to have millions of army men but not me; I stared into the faces of Michael Jordan, Pedro Martinez, and Priest Holmes. That is not to say that I did not find a few army men mixed among Cowboys, Indians, Firefighters, PBR Bull Riding people, and a few Superman and Star Wars Storm Troopers.

As a mother of three children, I am confident that we cannot keep our children little forever. Not to mention I would not want to keep them little because I did not particularly enjoy the diaper years, nighttime feedings, and the terrible twos. Boxes containing baby clothes through preschool flooded my storage rooms. Reminiscing through each small thread of clothing brought the awareness that my sons are uniquely different and each brings special memories to mind. For what it is worth, I know why I kept those outfits, to remember and rejoice at my children's innocence and marvel at their love.

Christmas trees and glass ornaments really have not changed much to warrant acquiring four different trees and boxes of twinkling balls. Those colorful ones that only the cat thinks is deserving of a good beating and swatting each year. Let us not forget the old vacuum cleaner attachments that went with the canister vacuum tossed 15 years before.

Years of clothing trends, toy "must-have" fads, and dust bunnies galore were swept up, bagged to either be set out for the landfill monster or donated to a local organization.

Four days later, can I answer any of the questions that bothered me about accumulating these artifacts? Probably not but I hope some of the items will start new memories for another family. Did I mention that approximately six bags went to feed the landfill? Only two storage rooms emptied! What was I thinking?

Gleefully I wait in anticipation for the next cleanup day. Only 51 weeks before my cloud of inspiration hovers again over my basement. Will I find more treasures or trash next time? Either way, I appreciate the opportunity to crack open the cookie jar of memories and groan at the seemingly endless amount of money invested in all of those toys!