I lost my grandma may of this year.
For the few weeks after she passed my mom was at her house every day sorting through her belongings and prepping her childhood home for sale.
As the weeks wore on and her house became more and more void of items and memories it once held; I noticed that our house began to fill up with senseless trinkets and knickknacks from way back when. My first response was to get frustrated. “We don’t need all these things in the house. These items aren’t her. Keeping them won’t bring her back.” I would think to myself. Getting angry because the hoarding compulsion was something that was passed down from generation to generation to cope with the loss of family members and I worried it would get to me too. Slowly as time has gone by we have minimized the amount of things kept from her home. And I have come to realize that these little things we keep are helping us cope. Whether it’s a crocheted doily, antique Christmas ornaments or a pearl necklace. They remind me of my grandma. And I need that sometimes. Small things like a holiday snow globe I gave her when I was seven that I see on my dresser each morning. Or a butterfly pin on my jacket when I leave the house. Little reminders that she was real and her love was real. These trinkets keep me going. Cause sometimes memories are hard to hoard.