Clutter to Memento

Paperbacks I’ve read hauled to Half Price Books, cocktail dresses that celebrated past New Year’s Eves toted to My Best Friend’s Closet consignment, and small appliances listed on Market Place (Anyone yearning for a reasonably priced George Foreman Grill?) marked my decluttering. All of them useful, but not to me. (I was on the fence about the grill, quesadillas grilled by George were the best.)

The Hard Part of Decluttering

Books, clothing, appliances fell in the “easy” category on the “declutter-o-meter” whereas mementos scored the opposite end of the spectrum. And they weren’t even MY keepsakes.

Somehow, I became the guardian of several mementos that my ex-husband (who recently passed) kept from his grandparents- a set of 107-year-old World Book Encyclopedias and a model of “The Republic” schooner. They accompanied the ex-husband when he moved out of Crystal Lake. Then, upon his retirement move to North Carolina, our son gained custody.

But I had visitation rights. 

When spending time with my then bachelor son in Madison, the 107-year-old encyclopedias lined a lower shelf in the living room next to the fireplace. They had similarly lined a book shelf in Ina’s (his paternal great-grandmother) snug third floor apartment in Plainfield. The guest room/office housed the glass encased model schooner that Omer (his paternal great-grandfather) constructed during retirement.

Boomeranging Mementos

When my son moved in with the woman he would soon marry, limited townhome space shifted said mementos back to my home in Crystal Lake. Ina may have paged through the encyclopedias while Omer, her husband, constructed the model ship. Now the schooner sailed atop MY bookshelf while the encyclopedias anchored near the bottom. They’ve enjoyed a few years of residency in my guest room, but these visitors had overstayed their welcome. 

A permanent, or less temporary home, needed to be found.

Relocating the model ship and encyclopedias to my son’s new, spacious home seemed the obvious solution. Obvious to me, he showed no interest.

After Googling “why doesn’t my son want his great-grandparents’ stuff” (or something like that), I found that MOST kids don’t want their great-grandparents’, grandparents’, or parents’ stuff. 

Yeah, I thought, but this was MY son and HIS great-grandparents’ model of “The Republic” schooner and 107-year-old World Book Encyclopedias. MY son was different.

Actually, he wasn’t. 

When I conveyed my disappointment to Mike, my SI (Significant Other), he said, “Why does it surprise you that he wouldn’t want outdated encyclopedias that weigh a ton and take up space? Or he’d want a model sailing ship when he doesn’t sail? Was he close to Ina and Omer?”

Actually, he wasn’t.

My son had met his great- grandparents only through grainy black and white photos and an occasional story recollected in his presence. 

Resigned to finding alternative accommodations, I contacted my ex-husband’s family offering the bits of their past. Perhaps someone with closer ties would welcome them? Their lack of space outweighed the mild interest generated by the encyclopedias. However, the ship would find safe harbor with a niece only if “no one else wanted it.” 

Everyday Epiphany

I set the model ship/encyclopedia dilemma aside while I decluttered the kitchen. From a drawer cache, I unearthed a tarnished silver dessert fork that had belonged to Ina and a trivet Omer had fashioned from stainless steel. I recalled eating buttery Salerno pound cake with the silver fork and a teapot had perched upon Omer’s trivet when we visited around their kitchen table.

This clutter metamorphosed into mementos upon reminiscing about my son’s great-grandparents- two delightful and interesting souls. These were MY mementos because I attached a particular memory.

And fortunately, they demanded less space than a glass encased model of “The Republic” schooner and a set of 107-year-old World Book Encyclopedias.

Check out my children’s book, OPERATION HOPPER.