Sentimentalities

My grandma’s picture can be found in the dictionary beside the word ‘hoarder.’ She is so sentimental that she has kept every single gift that my grandpa ever gave her.
Every. Single. Gift.
We helped her with a garage sale this weekend. What an experience! There were items that I would have sold in a heartbeat (especially if they were worth some money), that she just couldn’t bear to part with. They each held so many memories. The strangest things meant so much to her.
I realized that I’m just not like that. I keep photos and I keep letters and cards that my husband wrote me, but as far as objects go, I just don’t care for the unnecessary clutter. I’ve got enough crafty/decorative clutter. I just don’t have room to keep every gift I was ever given. Nor do I really want to.
And that’s the difference between us. We’re both shopaholics by nature, buying what we don’t need, but if I needed to sell the stuff in my house, I would be able to without much thought. I just don’t have the sentimental mentality that she does.
At one point during the sale, she came out holding two disney princess wallets, each one 20 years old. They were the first wallets my sister and I ever used, and we used them on our first trip ever to Disneyland. Because she and my grandpa were the ones to take us on that trip, they were special to her. But when she showed them to us and asked if we wanted to keep them, we flat out said no. We wanted to sell them.
She wasn’t too happy about that.
I’m not sure how to explain it to somebody who is so sentimental, that I just don’t need all of these objects to recall my good memories. I prefer to look at photos and let the memories roll over me. I don’t need gifts to feel loved. I don’t need objects to remember love.
I will never forget my first time to Disneyland. I may have only been four years old, but my memories of that trip are vivid. And I will never forget my grandpa. He’s apart of me, and I don’t need to be surrounded by objects of his to recall his voice, his silliness, his love.
I’m writing this post knowing that she’ll read it. And I’m not writing it to put her down, or to put anyone down who may be sentimental. I’m just pointing out that I’m different.
I’m not sentimental, and I think that’s okay.

My grandpa being silly.IMG_4677-0.JPG

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