Treasures That Might Have Been, and Those That Survive

As I’ve delved deeper into closets and drawers and boxes, I’ve found all sorts of things. And on a recent visit, I had my daughter go through her belongings to decide what we should save. She is far less sentimental about “things” than I am, and she kept very little.

“There’s a bunch of jewelry in there,” she said. “I don’t want it. Do you?”

Most of it I did not, though I kept one crucifix on a chain that I think my parents gave her, a medallion with little loose gold pieces in it (from Alaska, I think), and the Claddagh ring I bought her in Ireland in 2001. I remember that trip fondly, whether she does or not.

I steeled myself to give away almost everything in the box of mementos from my childhood—a little Japanese tea set, a statue of St. Theresa that my mother put in my bedroom when I was a kid, a tiny doll table and with two chairs (though I never had a doll that fit this furniture).

I have no idea why these things survived in my possession for so long. All I know is they were in a box my mother sent me sometime in the mid-1980s. I don’t even remember why she was doing her own household purging at that point—perhaps she and my father were moving. After living in one house for seventeen years, they moved five times in the last thirty-five years of their lives, not counting two apartments my father had briefly and my mother’s assisted living facility. I hope I don’t move every seven years for the rest of my life.

Beatrix Potter bowl and mug

I swallowed hard and put in the donation pile brand new things that had been given to my children—a Hallmark memory box for photos, three Beatrix Potter dish sets, and several dressy baby outfits. I should have used them for my children when I had the chance, but I was “saving” them for good.

Once my kids were past their toddler years, I had a vague notion I would save these things for grandchildren. “See the pretty dish your dad received when he was born,” I would say. “Now you can use it.”

The Peter Rabbit mug

But I have no grandchildren, and no prospects for any at the moment (though one never knows). Still, the time for these treasures has passed.

So what did I keep? What knickknacks survived this round of purging?

I kept two Beatrix Potter dishes that my children did use—one bowl and one mug. The new full sets still in their boxes can be treasured by someone else, but I treasure these specific pieces. I’m not sure which generation in the family acquired them. They are the same pattern that my siblings and I used for breakfast cereal, but I recall that set getting quite faded through the years, the whimsical characters blending softly into the off-white ceramic of the bowl. Therefore, I suspect this bowl and mug were individual pieces given to my children—so I might still be able to talk to my grandchildren about them. In fact, I probably told my children “I used a bowl just like this when I was your age.”

Another item I retained is the string of worry beads I bought myself in Greece in 1970. I gave away the last clothes I had that survived from before my marriage—a classic black sweater set that my college friend said made me look twenty-five (which is the age every college girl aspires to be) and a bright crocheted vest that brought Woodstock to mind, though I was too young to go anywhere near Woodstock when it was Woodstock.

But the worry beads? Those are small enough for me to tuck in a drawer somewhere. I can pull them out from time to time and remember that summer when I was fifteen and had my first taste of world travel as a People-to-People High School Student Ambassador.

Someday, these treasures, too, will leave my possession. I might even give them away myself during a future decluttering initiative. They are only treasures because of the memories behind them. And the memories will end with me.

What treasures have you saved from your childhood?