MIMI’S CORNER: Death by doodads

If you read my column two weeks ago, you know that we’re preparing to sell our house. At the same time, we’re trying to make decisions about our new house.

Consequently, my brain is divided between the two houses.

Right now, I’m trying to decide whether or not to get rid of some old towels. At the same time, I’m thinking it might be useful to keep them for packing delicate objects. But I’m also wondering whether I should keep all those delicate objects anyway. Where will I put them? I should get rid of them. Or most of them. Or a few of them.

But then I look at one of the delicate doodads, and I remember that my mother valued it. Her mother gave it to her. And her mother had given it to her. And her mother had given it to her. My daughters, however, have told me they don’t want it. That it’s time for the buck to stop with me.

So it goes with all too many objects. One woman’s objet d’art has become another woman’s clutter.

It’s difficult for me to prioritize which things mean enough to me to transport them to a brand new, albeit smaller abode. How can I justify breaking this albatross of a chain of family items handed down for close to 150 years?

I remember giving a friend some advice a few years ago. She and I share an appreciation of these antiques, but we realize that we don’t need them, and our children don’t want them. Modern decorating dictates a cleaner, less cluttered environment.

She had just inherited some family objects from an aunt and was bemoaning the very same situation in which I find myself: being the “caretaker” of family treasures. I suggested that she take photos of the items she wouldn’t keep and put them in an album. I doubt if she did.

So, I wrap items in bubble wrap, or old towels, put some in a box to take to the new house, others in a box for the Goodwill, and others to try to sell to those folks who still appreciate “doodads” from the past. Whether or not I take my own advice and make a doodad photo album remains to be seen.