Tossing childhood memories
A few weeks ago, my son decided to clean out his closet. The shelves were full of all of his childhood memories:
Scrapbooks I had made when he was small
Elementary projects and papers that he was proud of
Awards, certificates, and report cards from his life
Favorite stuffed animals and handmade art
Baby outfits and childbirth memorabilia
Letters I wrote him on Mother's Day
In general, these were things that we kept, sorted, and paired down over the years. Childhood reminders from special events, moments, and keepsakes from loved ones. I would consider our family to be minimalists when it comes to stuff, and I encourage my kids to get rid of things they do not want. Since losing both my parents, I have appreciated having memorabilia to remind me of them and our life together, but what happened next was totally unexpected.
He wanted to throw everything away. Everything.
Take a minute and let that sink in.
At first, I thought he was just being difficult and trying to piss me off. He is a teenager, and we have power struggles periodically, so to say, “I want to get rid of it all” did not seem that crazy for him. The second thing I thought about was that he does not have a clue what he is talking about. His brain is not fully developed, and he is not making a rational decision about something he doesn’t understand.
It took a lot for me to keep my composure and not lose my shit. I was wrestling with my emotions and feelings and didn't want to completely freak out. I tried negotiating with him, but he had an explanation for every point. I asked him to consider a few things:
What if you get married and have children. Don't you want to share your childhood with your children?
What if something happens in your life and memories no longer are accessible? You’ll have nothing to help you remember. No triggers to help you remember a thing or story.
What if I died tomorrow, and those letters I wrote you are now gone.
He didn’t waver. He was convinced that material stuff didn't matter. He had the memories and all this stuff was taking up space. It no longer served him. As a professional organizer, how do you argue with that? There was not one explanation I could come up with to show him how, sometimes, keeping a few things, can be important later in life. Memories fade and sometimes those details; like someone’s handwriting or special token can help transport you back to a time in life when things were simple or easy.
I found myself fraught with sadness and fear. It felt as if he was erasing his past, and removing everything (and us) from his life because it did not serve him anymore. I cried (a lot), feeling sad over the efforts I had put into preserving his childhood, to then be dumped into the trash. It was a devastating day and even now, I’m a little sad thinking about it still. The thing I realized, was that those were my feelings, not his. At one point, I thought about my childhood experiences and knew I had to stop.
Here’s where I turned a corner
After a lot of crying, sadness, and selfish motives, I realized something. Putting the burden on him to keep something because it’s what I wanted was wrong. I have raised my children with strong values and a good sense of self. I trust him and his choices.
As parents, we shouldn’t force our kids to be burdened with our baggage. It’s our job to teach them how to make their own choices, and face the consequences of their actions. We should be supporting and teaching them, not tearing them down or guilting them into doing something they don’t want to do.
Now, you’re probably thinking I should have just intervened, boxed up the memories, and put them in my closet. The thought did cross my mind, but then on the other hand, what does that teach him? That mom (or someone else) will always be there to fix his mistakes or correct his bad judgment? That didn’t feel good either. At the end of the day, it’s his stuff, not mine. I knew I had to let him run with this, as much as it made me sad to see, I had to let it go.
So here’s what happened….
I did go through it all and pulled out a few things that thought were too important to let go into the trash. I picked out scrapbook pages that told the story of his birth and important events in his childhood. I pulled out the sweater and hat sets his grandmother made him, and I pulled out his beloved penguin (Kowalski) that was gifted to him by my mom. I also saved a few hand-me-down items that were from my husband’s childhood and the ukelele that both of my kids learned to play in 3rd grade. Everything else went bye-bye. A few days later, he loaded up his car and took it all to the dump.
Was this the right decision?
For me, I think yes. I’m still a little sad he wasn’t willing to consider things he didn’t understand, but ultimately, it’s not my decision. When we give something to someone, the goal or intention should not be to decide for the recipient how or what they do with it. Then it’s not a gift it’s just a burden.
What I have appreciated most about this event is the opportunity to talk to my son about it. To discuss our feelings, and perhaps, give him something to consider in the future. We understand each other and respect each other’s decisions. As a mom of a teenager, that’s a huge win!
