Last July, my dad passed away, and in November, so did my mom. They had lived in their home for 57 years—a very long time. Both of them were Depression Era babies, and the value of saving and not wasting anything was instilled. The keep it because someone might need it idea was what the generation lived by.
Last weekend, my sisters and other family members
gathered at our childhood home and began to weed through the contents.
Financial docs were saved. Items each of us specifically wanted were set aside.
Cupboards cleaned out. Contents taken from bathrooms, bedrooms, hall closets
were sorted for the Disabled Veterans store or went to the trash. The attics
got special attention, too. Anyone need four fans? Or six Dremels?
Then we tackled the garage. Pops saved way too much
under the someone might need it umbrella.
Drawer contents were dumped into old shoe boxes for sorting. People claimed
tools, and stuff identified for a second look was placed on a table.My brother-i-law and I sorted shoe boxes of household junk. I picked up a long tube which looked as if toothpicks would have been stored inside it. Dangling from the same chain was something else. I collect Viewmasters and single shot viewfinders.
