U is for Uncluttered

There once was a young mom and son
For whom life had barely begun
Uncluttered shelf
Just books, photos — no elf!
[can you finish my limerick for me?]

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Ah — if only you could see where I live now!

People have asked if my parents were hoarders. I would say, NO!

I don’t believe that I come from a family of hoarders. I think more that I come from a family who recognizes that when things are thrown away, they are gone forever.

We throw away history on a regular basis. I don’t like that.

I looked at this photo, from when my oldest brother was a baby, and I see that my parents held onto what was important to them. Books, photos, some journals, etc.

Now I am faced with throwing away history.

I found a box in the attic the other day that was files from my father’s desk. Some of it is, literally, medical history. I can’t throw it away. I am now on a quest for the person who keeps this part of medical history.

Oh, to be uncluttered. It looks like a dream.