The Stuff that Makes our Family History

Oil to Electric Converted Lamp

 

When I wrote the post, “The Stages of Eliminating Stuff,” I wrote about let­ting go of the sen­ti­men­tal­ity of some of the stuff we had, which was my mother’s. She and my father used to antique quite a bit and I had some very large pieces.

Obviously, we don’t have room for a lot of big fur­ni­ture. I knew what she loved most and I loved most of the same pieces and resolved to find a use and space for them.

One of our Living Large com­mu­nity, Martin, made some good points in a com­ment: “I have antiques from Great Aunts/Grandparents/parents who worked hard to buy them–they came (from) Ireland with noth­ing and from what you are work­ing to go to as a life style. I would find it is dis­re­spect­ful to dump these things-they are more than sentiment–they are fam­ily his­tory. With that said-there are so many other things I real­ize I can and will part with, but not the fam­ily history!!”

His com­ment first made me doubt whether I should be elim­i­nat­ing any of these things from our lives and also won­der if there are dif­fer­ent sets of rules for items con­sid­ered to be fam­ily his­tory, rather than just stuff, or even stuff with sen­ti­men­tal­ity attached.

I once again con­fronted my doubts as many of these antiques that were so prized by my mother are still sit­ting in our stor­age build­ing. I know how hard my father worked and I was on many of the antique shop­ping adven­tures with them when some of those items were pur­chased. I also know how hard my mother worked to restore many of the pieces.

Believe me, I once whole­heart­edly agreed with Martin. That’s why our 1,100 square foot house in the city was stuffed full of fur­ni­ture and stuff my mother had already given us.

Maybe 10 years ago, I read a remark­able essay by a woman who had just lost her mother. Like mine, her mother col­lected antiques and had many prized pos­ses­sions. This woman wrote the essay after stor­ing her mother’s belong­ings for a year. She kept what she could and gave to her chil­dren what they wanted.

At the time, I won­dered how any­one could part with some­thing that belonged to their mother, but as I thought more about it and even­tu­ally had to clean out my own mother’s apart­ments twice, my out­look changed.

It’s not until you have to sort through 82 years of your par­ents' lives in the stuff they leave behind that the real­ity hits you that in the end, you can­not take it with you and what you’re leav­ing is a lot of heart-wrenching work for the fam­ily you also leave behind.

There are things I will not ever part with such as that dry sink, her read­ing lamp, her china and a new find – the let­ters she wrote to my father while he was sta­tioned in the Army dur­ing WWII. But I’ve come to the con­clu­sion that I can­not keep it all sim­ply because it was cher­ished by my mom or is a part of my child­hood memories.

My nephews do not want these huge pieces and our daugh­ters live out of the country.

In this thought process, I’ve come up with a few tips for part­ing with stuff that is a part of your fam­ily history:

  • Assess its sen­ti­men­tal value to your fam­ily his­tory: The first thing you must do is assess how impor­tant this item is to your fam­ily his­tory. Did your great-great grand­par­ents bring the item from their home­land? Is it a part of your fam­ily history's story, which means it must be some­thing more than someone's baby blan­ket. It must be cen­tral to who your fam­ily is.
  • A place for every­thing and every­thing in its place: If you haven’t built your small home yet, take these items into con­sid­er­a­tion. Where will they be placed? Can they take on multi-purpose use? When my aunt built her home down the road from us, she designed one wall in her kitchen to specif­i­cally fit an oddly shaped cor­ner cab­i­net that was a fam­ily heir­loom.  Think about your design and uses.
  • Giving it away: If you can­not use it and don’t want to store it, the best thing is to give the item to another fam­ily mem­ber who might appre­ci­ate it and its his­tory. If no one in your fam­ily is inter­ested, how about donat­ing it to the local his­tor­i­cal or cul­tural soci­ety? If the piece has a mon­e­tary value, find a rep­utable antiques appraiser and sell.
  • Document: If you have to part with your beloved relative’s antiques, you can doc­u­ment them for­ever by tak­ing pho­tographs and plac­ing them into a spe­cial mem­ory album and/or record­ing it all on video. You can go back and revisit those items anytime!

Do you have a lot of items that are part of your fam­ily his­tory? What would you never part with? If mov­ing to a smaller space, how would you deal with it?

 

 

 

32 Responses to “The Stuff that Makes our Family History”

  1. sarah henry says:

    Having five sib­lings helps, as does liv­ing out­side your coun­try of ori­gin, and hav­ing a small home too. I know the large antiques my beloved grand­mother gave us have found homes bet­ter suited to them, while I still have lovely reminders of her (small ones) dot­ted through my own place.

    • Kerri says:

      Oh, that would be nice, Sarah, to have so many rel­a­tives to share things with and have each one take the things that are best suited for them.

  2. Alisa Bowman says:

    This raises many deep ques­tions. In the end, though, your par­ents aren't around, so you can't dis­re­spect them or hurt their feel­ings. These items may have been cher­ished by them in their time and place, but I'm sure your par­ents never intended for you to be weighed down by their pos­ses­sions. I know I would never want my daugh­ter to hang onto some­thing of mine that she didn't really want just out of guilt. That serves no pur­pose. And by giv­ing them away, you can bring light and hap­pi­ness into some­onne else's life.

  3. mat says:

    The hard­est thing…I think for most peo­ple is that some­one impor­tant to them has cher­ished an item. And it's almost like let­ting go of some trin­ket is a betrayal.

  4. I actu­ally don't have any fam­ily heir­looms. But, if I did, I agree with some of the oth­ers that sug­gest donat­ing them to a his­tor­i­cal society.

  5. Teresa says:

    I had to empty my folks house out last year — and my mother had metic­u­lously saved sooooo many fam­ily heir­looms. It has taken me over a year to sort thru them all. I have tried to dis­trib­ute out things that other fam­ily mem­bers might like to have as best I can. But I am an only child, and have no chil­dren of my own, so the "his­tory" sort of ends here. The thing I have the hard­est time with is all the photo albums full of pic­tures of peo­ple that nobody else is going to know when I'm gone.

    • Kerri says:

      At least you know them, Teresa. Do you have cousins maybe? I did not even know my grand­par­ents, so I have photo albums full of peo­ple I can­not even put names to!

  6. Jane Boursaw says:

    Oh my gosh, I have SO much of this stuff, and more com­ing because my mom is 88 this year. You're right — it's heartwrench­ing and emo­tional to deal with it all. I think maybe the really per­sonal stuff — the let­ters, paint­ings and things like that should def­i­nitely be kept.

  7. Claudia says:

    I'm the first — and so far only — one in my fam­ily to down­size. My par­ents and brother still hang onto every lit­tle thing, from ele­men­tary school papers and child­hood toys to inher­ited stuff that doesn't get used for what­ever rea­son (ugly fur­ni­ture, unap­pre­ci­ated art, pho­tos of long-dead fam­ily mem­bers that no one can even iden­tify, etc.)

    Click on my name to see the arti­cle that really sums up how I was able let go of sen­ti­men­tal items.

    At the end of the month I am mov­ing to a 223-square-feet home and this is the final push to let go of even more.

    I started down­siz­ing two years ago and I can hon­estly say that I can count on one hand the num­ber of things I regret giv­ing away. And the regret is fleeting.

  8. Merr says:

    I have more and more tried to lis­ten to my heart/gut, and not any­one else, when assess­ing what to keep and what not to. The best is what, like with your lamp, there is a way to uti­lize the piece, if not func­tion­ally, then because you just like look­ing at it.

  9. I'm won­der­ing if any of these items might be donated to a local his­tor­i­cal soci­ety? I know there are sev­eral in our area–one for each lit­tle town. It might be worth a phone call. I don't con­sider myself very sen­ti­men­tal but I must say I just cher­ish some of my family's heir­looms. Yes, they sit in a box in the base­ment some­day I'll fig­ure out how to dis­play them, but I enjoy hav­ing that…oh, connection.

    • Kerri says:

      Yes, I sug­gested donat­ing to a his­tor­i­cal soci­ety above. That is a great way to ensure your family's heir­looms will be appre­ci­ated by thou­sands of people.

  10. Sometimes I look at what I've kept — memen­toes from my par­ents that would have no mean­ing to any­one else. I real­ize that I can't bear to throw them out, but my chil­dren will someday.

  11. Kerry Dexter says:

    good ideas, Kerri.

    from a bit of a dif­fer­ent per­spec­tive — a friend of mine is a pro­fes­sional musi­cian. she decided many years ago, when her son was small (he's an adult now with chil­dren of his own) that she would make a box and put in it the things from her pro­fes­sional career that she'd like him to keep/have/know about after she's gone.

    it's not a big box, espe­cially con­sid­er­ing all she's done and all that's been writ­ten about her, but it con­tains the pho­tos, record­ings, play­bills, let­ters, ticket stubs, awards, and such that mean the most to her from that work, and of course she adds to it now and again. I imag­ine her son will make his own choices, too, when the time comes, but I liked the idea. what do you think?

    • Kerri says:

      I think it is a won­der­ful idea, Kerry! I have a lit­tle book my mother started writ­ing her life story in. She only got about 50 pages of it done, but of all of the things she left, that is the one I love the most because it was intended for me.

  12. Sheryl says:

    I think any­one that has fam­ily heir­looms — espe­cially per­sonal cor­re­spon­dence — is so for­tu­nate. I have a few things from my grand­par­ents that I will not part with: a lamp, a small glass table, a paint­ing. I love hav­ing them in my house; it feels like I have a piece of the per­son along with me.

    • Kerri says:

      It is that emo­tional con­nec­tion of the mem­o­ries that make it so hard for us to shed our­selves of these things, Sheryl. When I see that lamp pic­tured above, I still have a pic­ture in my mind of me stick­ing my head into their bed­room after being out late and telling her I was home. She would read late into the night in bed with that lamp. My mom, read­ing, it is all a part of who I am.

  13. These are good tips. I inher­ited a lot of items from my grand­mother. Much of it is in stor­age right now. But I have plans to use it — for exam­ple when my kids move out, the bed­room set will become my spare bed­room. I also intend to give much of the china and glass­ware away to my chil­dren once they have their own homes. It was very hard to sort through her belong­ings and decide what to keep and I prob­a­bly ended up tak­ing more than I should have.

  14. Olivia says:

    I do have way too many things that are part of fam­ily his­tory. I am not per­son­ally attached to any of them but have got­ten stuck with them because other fam­ily mem­bers "may" want them but not just now. I am about to start issu­ing ulti­ma­tums for them to either come and get them or they are gone. I seem to lack the gene that causes me to have a sen­ti­men­tal attach­ment to any­thing. It's all just "stuff" and, as you say, we can't take it with us when we pass on.

    I sup­pose the one thing I would keep is my Mum's recipe book — the one where all her hand­writ­ten recipes are. I like it mainly because it IS writ­ten in her own hand­writ­ing and some of the recipes remind me of my child­hood although I rarely make any of them since being diag­nosed celiac unless I can adapt them to gluten free. I doubt that my kids will ever want it because my mother had a very styl­ized hand­writ­ing and they com­plain that they can't read it!

    • Kerri says:

      Oh, I would let those fam­ily mem­bers know that there's no time like the present, Olivia! I wish I could develop your gene that detaches us. If you could bot­tle and sell it you would make a for­tune with peo­ple in the small house move­ment! :) Recipe books handed down from gen­er­a­tions are also keep­ers. Unfortunately, all of my mother's recipes were in her head. While I got most of them, not get­ting that one for pump­kin pie haunts me to this day.

  15. Kerri says:

    Oh, I would find it very dif­fi­cult to part with that kind of stuff, too, Alexandra. That might be one of those things you can­not ever part with. I have poems and stuff my mother wrote way back in high school. A great niece expressed an inter­est on FB the other day in read­ing some of this stuff. I think what I might do is copy those writ­ings and the let­ters and bind it some­how for my nephews and great nieces/nephews and then leave the orig­i­nals to her after I'm gone.

  16. Irene says:

    What sage advice! Getting rid of stuff is fraught with anx­i­ety and you've pro­vided some action­able steps.
    Best, Irene

  17. Alexandra says:

    This is a great post for any­one fac­ing this sit­u­a­tion. Strangely enough what I have not been able to part with are my par­ents' papers and espe­cially book drafts. I know this is silly. I need to throw out the boxes of type-written pages. But they were com­posed before com­put­ers, and meant so much to the writer. Fortunately I have an attic where these boxes can sit for now, but, at some point, I must part with them. Perhaps, once I get my dad's mem­oir out as an ebook??