Lessons Learned From Cleaning Out My Mom's Closet

I’ve been cleaning out my mom’s closet today.  I remember her wearing most of them.  Destined for charity is a big pile of clothes for which she paid a lot of money.  Fling, fling, into the charity pile.  I can’t help but think of the future when my daughters will be cleaning out my closet.  Trying things on, aghast at what I wore, and giggling over what I found stylish back in the day.  My stuff seems awfully important.  I can’t get rid of it.  Love it!  Hang on to it.  I find a place for it.  Yet, the next generation will haul it off, laughing. 

I also have been busy for the past week digitalizing my parents’ photo album.  I’ve got a nice little camera that takes good close ups. It has taken hours of concentration holding the shaky camera over the album, back aches be damned.  Why is it so easy to get rid of stuff, and photos are sacrosanct? 

What my children or grandchildren might cherish will be the photo I was horrified over.  You know the one, we all have them, where we thought we looked fat or silly or dumb.  Nope.  THAT’S what they cherish.  Preserve.  Label and store.  Shed a tear over, email to relatives, put in special folders.

So smile at the camera, make albums and label everything.  Forget about that table from Aunt Euphemia that you were saving for your children.  They won’t want it.  They want you.  In your dorky old fashioned clothes, your goofy hair, and your smiling face. 

They want you.