What To Do When Your Kids Don't Want Your Stuff
Saving for What We Wanted
When my husband and I were young, just a short time ago, we saved our money to buy things. Archaic concept, I realize, but we didn’t have the luxury of unlimited spending on credit cards. So we shopped intentionally for the things we wanted and put money aside until we had enough.
This practice made the things we acquired meaningful and personally valuable to us. Having three grown children now who are raising their own families, I have learned something earth-shattering.
Our kids don’t want our stuff. None of it. Not the monetarily valuable or the sentimental.
Wait, I stand corrected. There are a few things they expressed interest in, and those are the very things I boxed up and delivered to Goodwill years ago. Who knew?
A Book, a Blog, and a Memory
Evidently, a lady wrote a book. I read a blog about it a few days ago that shared highlights. I’ll share them with you in a minute. It brought me back to when my sisters and I were going through my mom’s things after she passed away several years ago.
We all claimed a few things that meant something to us, then arranged an estate sale. The truths I am going to share with you were made agonizingly clear to me at that time. I took a good hard look at myself and how I hold on to things. Things that might mean something to me but mean little or nothing to those that will be here after I have moved on to spend Eternity with Jesus.
Our Sentimental Items Are Someone Else’s Burden
All those pictures of generations past? My children and grandchildren will be clueless.
Knickknacks I picked up over the years that hold a special memory are nothing more than clutter to them, and they have to decide who in the world would want them.
Years and years of birthday cards? Enough.
We Are Not Our Stuff
Once all the stuff is gone, the memories remain. When my sisters and I get together, we never talk about what was in my mother’s home or on her shelves, but what was in her heart. What she did or said.
If the house had burned to the ground, the memories would have been etched forever in our hearts.
Decluttering Is a Gift of Love
Decluttering some before we go is a gift of love to our family. Saving my children from having to sift through the rubble of what I left undone is a final act of kindness.
“Mom probably meant to get around to getting rid of all this. I guess we’ll do it now.”
Things are difficult enough at that time. Let’s save them the agony of going through fifty years of old letters and postcards.
Guilt Is a Terrible Interior Designer
Someone said guilt is a terrible interior designer. When we leave things on shelves, hanging on walls, or in our closets only because they were gifts from someone, let it go. Donate it. Someone else may actually love it.
What Story Does Our Stuff Tell?
Our stuff tells a story. When our survivors dig through what we leave, what is the story that will be told? Is that the story we want them to remember us by? What are the lasting impressions we want them to carry? Let’s leave that with them.
My husband has a rack of medals from the obstacle races that he has run. I imagine our grandchildren will fight over those. That's a story of who he was, and time spent together--the same can be said of the tools in his shop. It defines him and who he is.
Me? I've already had claims on my family recipe book. And some of my journals of writing. These things tell stories to our children and grandchildren. Stories of who we are.Not the shelves of broken kitchen appliances in the garage that I might one day find a use for; or maybe fix.
Do It for Yourself
Finally, don’t just do it for them. Do it for yourself. It’s a symbol of what we want to leave behind. A legacy of love, patience, letting go. Forgiveness. Don’t hold on to things that have no real purpose in your life. Start with one drawer, one section of your closet, one shelf in the garage. Ask yourself, "Is this serving me now, or am I keeping it out of guilt?" Then experience how letting it go makes you feel.
A Story of Letting Go
If you are struggling with letting go, of stuff, past hurts, or bitterness: you may relate to DeAnna, the main character in my novel, THE LONG ROAD HOME. Travel along with her as she journeys with her estranged father and two siblings on a re-created roadtrip from their childhood as she seeks a road of reconciliation between bitterness and forgiveness, a restored faith and a fractured marriage.
Available now on Amazon.
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