Trying To Find the Balance Between Holding On and Letting Go

Of collections and sentimental objects

If you made beaded dresses for tiny plastic dolls like the one above, can you let go of them? I couldn’t.

When I read Ellie Jacobson’s prompt about writing about sentimental objects, it opened the floodgates of my memory (is that a thing?), especially because I am currently going through my collections. I am wondering what I am going to do with all this stuff I’ve amassed. Not collected, but amassed over the years.

During my five-plus decades on earth, I’ve collected:

• Books (but of course)
• Miniatures (yes, have a thing for them)
• Owl collectibles (earrings, night lamp, purses, notebooks, sculptures)
• Lamps
• Musical instruments
• Stones (yes, really!)
• Wristwatches
• Earrings (mostly ethnic junk jewelry I know many people covet)
• Terracotta figures
• Wooden artifacts (collectibles, art, bangles)

• Unusual bags and purses
• Photo albums
• Soft toys
• Unique stationery (I am referring to dolphin-shaped staplers and such)
• Audio and video cassettes, Vinyl records, DVDs, and CDs (I know they’re passé but well.)

. . . and many, many more things

A few years ago, I had the sudden urge to purge. This was brought on by sudden deaths in the family and it got me thinking, what if I suddenly died? What would my folks do with all my stuff? Because let’s face it, I’ve collected most of the stuff that fills our home. My husband and son are minimalists and I suspect they simply have no idea what fills all the cupboards and other storage spaces in the house. So, it got me thinking. Perhaps the best way to tackle this was by beginning to gift away the stuff.

And yes, that thought brought great joy. It is crazy how a large house will slowly accumulate stuff, stuff that will find a place to settle and not get in the way — and we’ll go on with our busy lives as usual. It is what happened to us.

I began to freecycle things via a Facebook group. I started giving things away to those who were interested in them. My heart certainly feels lighter, but I have miles to go before I sleep. Decades’ worth of things cannot be zapped by waving a wand. Then there’s the sentimental stuff that’s hard to let go of.

• Things like the velvet beaded purse my grandma made.
• The beaded toys my aunt made.
• Things I collected during my travels — although in later years I stopped shopping and contented myself with taking photos.
• That tiny motorbike that still runs perfectly.

• The Purple Rain video cassette my husband gifted me.
• The multicolored silk saree my mom and I bought — and the story behind it. Torn and unusable now, but I cannot let go of it.

I don’t really have any family heirlooms to speak of unless I count the brass coffee filter and a few utensils I still use in the kitchen that are at least twice as old as I am. I would never swap them for anything new for as long as I live.

I am sentimental about my mom’s handbag — a soft leather purse with a handle. I always associate generosity and abundance when I think of it. I could never part with it. She loved that particular purse because I bought it with my first salary. She always seemed to have something to give from it.

I treasure my mom’s recipe diary, in which she randomly wrote quotes, thoughts, and tips amidst the recipes. I think only I can decipher those because she used the unique multilingual words we shared to refer to certain ingredients and processes. When I flip through the pages, it brings back memories of those moments when I forced her to write down some of her special recipes and that makes me laugh and cry. When I look at this diary on my kitchen shelf, it encourages me to think I am a good cook and gives me confidence.

Although I’ve given away hundreds of books over the years, one set I’ll never give away is my mom’s books. She liked to cover them in white and write the title on the spine. Just looking at them fills me with love.

There are so many things in our home that are there just because we want to see them around us and feel good — regardless of what condition they are in because each item tells a story with a warm memory. A case in point is the shoe shelf we’ve been thinking we should replace for decades now. But I know we won't. Instead, we simply “restored” it by sticking photos from our favorite wall calendars collected over the years and giving it a new look.

It is funny how we hold on to seemingly useless objects because of the power memories have over us. I’d never throw away the broken purple umbrella because my son bought it for me when he was three years old. I could never part with a small wooden stool we have because another kid close to me gifted it to me, much to his mom’s amusement. He was six at the time and is in his thirties now.

When I look at these things, all I see is joy and happiness, and love. Who can part with that in life?

Vidya Sury, Collecting Smiles ❤ Did you smile today?

Here’s Ellie Jacobson’s prompt which set me off down memory lane.

Let’s think and write about sentimental objects. Do you collect anything? As a child what did you love to collect? What is/was your collection? What is the story behind the object? Or someone you love had an unusual collection you remember from childhood? Write about that. Can you use that object/collection for a story?

More prompts in her story here to spark your creativity: