What to do?
On one hand, I find myself wondering why I keep some of these things. I can't stand clutter. When my house or office starts to get cluttered up, I feel stressed and anxious. I like organized, clean and clear.
But then, I also wish that I had saved the Christmas cards that Sweet Hubs' Grandpa sent us. I don't have anything with Grandpa's handwriting on it.
You see, I realized the other day that I can't exactly remember my Dad's voice. I can easily bring to mind his jeweler's scarred hands, and the sharp hairline, so high at the sides. I can make an instant mental picture of how he sat with his legs crossed. But his voice? Not so much.
All these years later, I see my father's handwriting on something and my heart catches in my throat. I have many pictures of him, of my grandmothers.... but very little of my Sweet Hubs' Grandpa. I should have saved something.
And in the very next breath, I look around at all the bits and pieces that I've saved and ask myself, "Why am I saving this?" It must be some kind of memory vs. minimize schizo phase I'm going through.