My husband's mother passed away a little over a year ago. We have spent a year sorting through the accumulations of more than 50 years in one place by a woman that lived through the depression. Many of you know that means that those years caused her to "save everything" in case she might need it later. Such a job it has been!!!! I think I am the most amazed over the quilts she had pieced from scraps of clothing and, I am sure, small yardage she bought. Each square was appliqued and then put together with strips. Some are quilted by her on quilting frames and others are still just "quilt tops". I don't know if it is the genealogist in me or the writer, but one or the other (maybe both) causes me to wonder what she was thinking as she worked tirelessly with her fingers. Did she cry over some heartache as she sewed? Maybe friends or families had gathered with her around the quilting frames and they had laughed and gossiped, happy to have others close by to share their thoughts and feelings. Something in me wants to keep most of what we are selling. To keep those things that she held dear for some reason. A toy. An old pot (was it her mother's??). But, if I did, my children would have to sort through it when i am gone. I am sure they would not appreciate it. LOL.
At times, I wish I was like so many that I know that never hoard...that throw away anything that has not been used in 6 months or a year. I just can't do it. Most everything I keep is tied to a memory or an event...but they will never know what it meant. So sad.
BUT this is why I write fiction around tidbits of truth. I love it. If I don't know what it is, I make it up. LOL.
Ann Phillips, Tennessee native with roots in North Carolina, mother of 5, grandmother of 15 and loving life..