Oh, the Memories: Decluttering the Sentimental Stuff

Or should I say, “Oh, the mementos”? For years I’ve kept greeting cards, postcards, and letters in a couple of large decorative hatboxes. I didn’t keep everything and there have been fewer and fewer in the last decade (all hail the convenience of email and ecards), but I still have dozens and dozens of pieces of paper commemorating birthdays, holidays, and other occasions. This is when decluttering gets serious. I have gone through books and clothes and kitchen supplies, but I think we can all agree what the really hard task is: decluttering the sentimental stuff.

I try to prepare mentally and tell myself that enough is enough; it’s time to get rid of all the bits of paper I’ve been holding onto for years. I spread everything over the sofa. The initial weeding out isn’t too difficult. I easily toss anything from an ex (friend or spouse) or people I barely remember. It looks like I kept all the cards for Jewish holidays. Having often lived in small Jewish communities, where cards celebrating anything outside of Christmas or Easter were a rarity, I tended to hold on to those cards more than some others. I used to hang them up to decorate back when my kids were younger, but the kids have grown up and moved away, so no excuses.

Nowadays, in the age of the internet, almost everything is easily acquired, no matter where you live. Greeting cards that contain a signature and nothing more are also fairly easy to discard. I can’t even decipher the signatures on some, so those go into the “toss” pile. The only ones I set aside are those from my son or daughter; I’ll look at those later and decide. They were born in the age of email, so I have very few hard copies of anything from them. Actually, I’m keeping everything from my son and daughter, even if it’s just their name scribbled on a card. For now.

Some memories I’m glad to be rid of. At the time, I appreciated cards and letters expressing sympathy about a difficult or sad event, but I’d just as soon let those memories go. A lot of time has passed and there’s no reason to remember the bad times. I spot a pile of cards clipped together – all wishing me good luck and a speedy recovery from my cancer surgery. I keep those for now. After all, that event had a happy ending (full recovery).

I discover a group of cards from an old friend and a few precious letters from my dad, both people long gone. I decide to keep some foreign postcards from friends, reminders that I want to get back to traveling. There’s a thick bunch of letters I wrote during my summer program in the USSR back in 1989, when the Soviet Union was falling apart. I don’t stop to read them now, but I know that I will later, so those go back into the hatbox. I continue to go through the piles, sometimes smiling at the memories. Still, my memories won’t disappear even if the mementos do. They aren’t dependent on the bits of paper. My hatboxes of mementos have been reduced to one – progress!

If you were a fan of Seinfeld, you may remember an episode when Jerry was scolded for tossing a card too soon (according to the sender). How long should you keep a card? Some of you may be among my card-sending friends, so let me reassure you that I still cherish your cards. I set them out for a week, even a month. I enjoy looking at them and appreciate the thought. They give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside. But I won’t promise to keep them forever. As long as you’re in my life, I won’t forget you . . . even after I toss the card.

Suggestions