Stuffed
Published: July 2nd, 2013
By: Melissa deCordova

If you’re lucky, one day your kids will take up housekeeping in a home of their own and rid your house of all of their stuff, plus the stuff you intend to give to them. That’s the hope, anyway, but don’t count on it happening.

With today’s competitive job market and the branch structure typical of many occupations, you can expect your children will be even more transient in their lives than you were. From ages 18 to 29, my education and career paths took me through rooms in three college dorms and six private homes, to four apartments in two states and, finally, into two houses I could call my own. Young men and women remain single even longer today, begin their careers later and start families well into their 30s. When you add in compiling college debt and the high cost of a starter home today, this transition of possessions could take a very long time indeed.

Your offspring will come back for their photo albums and framed posters, American Girl dolls and Magic trading cards someday, but what about the china, antiques and collectibles you’ve saved to hand down to them? Traditionally, heirlooms and historical keepsakes are handed down for their intrinsic value. Not to the Millennials, I’m afraid. Not with their popular mantra, “You Only Live Once,” or YOLO. This age group doesn’t seem passionate about history nor anything nostalgic.

By the time they do move into a place of their own, you won’t be able to find the set of dishes you packed away for them anyway. They are there somewhere, probably wedged in between the spare furniture you’ve carefully preserved. And soon van loads of hand-me-downs will begin arriving from your aging parents when they transitioned into smaller homes or senior living facilities. The thought of all of this stuff piling up in the attic, basement, garage and barn makes me want to move into a $35 a month storage unit myself.

Your children might want a bedroom set, a carpet remnant and maybe a chair or a lamp or two at some point, but not if they are living clear across the country. Shipping is expensive when you figure they can buy something of good quality for the same price or pay less at a flea market sale. You might as well forget about sending off any items that need repair or refinishing, even if they are useful. If you don’t have time to do the work yourself, you can guarantee your kids won’t either. Do they know about wood grains, sanding and varnishing? Have they polished anything besides their nails?

Desks and filing cabinets of any variety aren’t worth passing along because – in case you haven’t noticed – no one writes nor files anymore. Offices complete with cell phone chargers, computers and Wifi connections to cyberspace can be rented in just about any city today. No 19th Century oak, roll tops with secret compartments for important records and papers. No shelves nor drawers no matter how curious and quaint. No adorable brass knobs required. Forget about giving away bookshelves along with the books, too, and resolve to dusting those hefty Harry Potter tomes for life. As you know, virtually everything can be downloaded and read online now.

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Place a gentle kiss goodbye on grandmother’s well-used Joy of Cooking and your entire cookbook collection to boot. This generation spends most of their of time alone, switching from screen to screen all day and night long, so dining in restaurants is the only opportunity to be social. When they must cook a meal, Internet search engines quickly sort through cuisines from around the world and offer easy to make recipes from ingredients readily available.

Unfortunately, by the time my two get around to moving their stuff out, I’ll be out of boxes. You see I recently moved my large stock from the attic to the basement, thinking the threat of mold would inspire me to pack up the items I know they don’t want and sell or donate them this summer. That was until the other day when I opened the cellar door to pitch in a couple more boxes and was met by a slithering, shiny, black and white striped snake.

At least what’s in the cellar won’t be bothering me for a while.




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