Every place has its items, and items have a place. But what about when the place changes?

My mom, sister, and I have begun cleaning out my grandparents’ house following my grandfather’s passing.

Downsizing. We all encounter this in one way or another through out life. Just in different forms.

We agreed closets would be a good place to start. Sorting things that have been out of sight and mind may be easier to handle.

Less emotional struggle, if that makes sense.

Deciding Where to Start

My mom managed the clothing, shoes, jewelry and bags.

While I navigated the board games, puzzles, trinkets from vacations, and some books.

My sister went back and forth between us helping.

We put on music to make it a more light hearted process while we shouted and laughed room-to-room of our discoveries.

The scrapbook of 1980s entertainment stars was by far the funniest.

And why we have so many puzzles of the same types of images I will never know.

How many jigsaw shapes of cardboard does one family really need!?

Memorable Discoveries

At one point my mom called out to me about the tin Crayola boxes.

You see, these Crayola crayons sat in sealed tin containers since the early 1990s.

My grandfather kept a collection at the bottom of his closet, for my entire life.

I was never allowed to open them, as it may be “a collector’s item!” in the future.

I crawled on to the carpeted closet floor where I once played as a child while my grandparents would get ready for the day.

I peered down to the lowest shelf scanning for these boxes I knew so well.

I immediately exclaimed “I found them!” and gathered the 3 tins in my arms as if it was gold.

My sister asked about them and I explained how I waited 29 years for these crayons.

I looked on Ebay to see their value, but the reality is no dollar amount would ever be enough to part with them.

I decided to only take one of the boxes home with me. The one labeled “1992 Crayola Collectible Holiday Tin”

The Christmas season right before I was born.

As I held the box in my apartment, it looked almost, out of place. It had a home where it lived on a shelf for 30 years.

and now, it’s here, with me.

I carried it to my bedroom, opened my closet door, slide out a drawer, and tucked the tin inside.

I don’t know if I will ever open it. Because nothing inside, will equate to it’s overall value to me.

Reflection

Why do we do this as humans? Why does Stuff have such an importance to us?

It is so difficult to know where to start cleaning out a home.

I have watched my fair share of Hoarders episodes to know, holding on to belongings doesn’t bring the person back.

But somehow, certain objects carry a very large weight in their meaning in our hearts, and in our minds.

And I think that’s what we like to hold on. To keep the memories with us, even if the person, is not.