Getting Old Gracefully - NOT

Ten years ago, I had all my favorite recipes laminated.  I thought it was so clever.  I could use my recipes, wipe them clean, and pass them onto my daughter so that she could, in turn, use them, wipe them clean, all the while remembering me fondly.  Now ten years later, I realize that she won't even need them or want them.  The internet gives her access to all the recipes she wants in an immediate instant.  The internet has turned her into a gourmet chef so that my simple, comfort foods are so old fashioned and tasteless by comparison.  So much for trying to feed nostalgia.

In the same vein, my husband, who was a collector in his heyday, stores all the stuff he thinks may still hold some value up in our attic.  It is a crawl space that you access from the old fashioned pull down stairs.  It is hot and dark up  there.  It is my husband's domain so it is messy and disorganized.   In otherwords, it is total chaos.  It occured to me that the kids, who are nearing middle age, with young children of their own, will curse us the day they have to sort through all our stuff.  A lifetime of collecting and there will be no time to tell stories, to hold onto memories, to linger.  We are all caught up in the Cat's Cradle, and the last thing our grown childrn will want to do is to sift, and sort, and linger.  They will have to return to work ASAP.

Every item in our house has its own story.  Some are antiques, bought at auctions.  Some are garage sale finds.  Some are just plain garage sale chic.  Each item was bought with love and attention was paid to every detail.  "Who will want our crap?"  I ask my husband.  I look at the presents he has bought me over the years.  They have special meaning to me.  I remember the classics I read in English Lit classes.  Women would hold their mother's jewelry tenderly in their hands and remember.  Who has time to remember now?  At this rate, even my house will suffer from Alzhiemer's even before I do!

I have decluttered so many times, only to wonder how there is still so much stuff.  Why do I have all this stuff?  Who needs all this stuff?  Who will want all this stuff?  Why is stuff so very important?