When Stuff is Just Stuff

Yesterday the Crankee Yankee and I went to our storage facility in Wolfeboro. Our goal was to finish picking out the stuff we can get rid of, and make way for the stuff we would like to keep. Even now after the passings of my parents and selling their house, I still get a twinge of sadness seeing the things my parents loved. Mom and I didn’t always like the same things, so a lot of stuff went to auction. I’d like to think that the people who ended up with them enjoy them.

The things I have loved from Mom’s and Dad’s house have found their place in our house, and years down the road, I hope that our granddaughters will enjoy our furniture and even some of Mom’s and Dad’s.

However, that said—things are just that; stuff is just stuff. I’ve gotten over thinking of how Mom would feel about us not wanting this, that or the other thing. In fact, I swear I can hear her say, “oh, for heaven’s sake, if you don’t like it, don’t take it home!” So some of her things will be sold or just given away.

Mom used to say things about having things that you don’t really want but feel you should use. In fact, she often said, “stop shoulding on yourself!” Good advice, that, and I’ve learned over time that it works.

After all, stuff is just that: stuff.

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