Our three kiddos.

I sat contentedly in a camping chair watching my grown children amidst the clutter and chaos of our latest family project—a long-overdue sorting of their childhood artifacts and memories. This year we had them all home for Thanksgiving—a rare occurrence now that they are married and some living out-of-state.

Knowing they would all be in town; I took the opportunity to initiate a family project. When I informed them of my day-after-Thanksgiving scheme, they were all thrilled beyond measure (insert sarcastic emoji here!)

The project involved sorting through lots of stuff (schoolwork, books, trophies, collections, etc.) that I had been saving for years in plastic tubs in a storage unit.

The day after Thanksgiving we all headed to the mini-storage, grandkids included, and opened our 10×20 unit. In front of us were tubs of all sizes precariously stacked from floor to ceiling, labeled with each child’s name. Each of our three children took their respective tubs and set up in the hallway where they could sort, purge and reminisce. We had trash bags for the things they wanted to throw away and boxes for items they wanted to donate. They were also free to take anything back with them they wanted to keep.

They sorted for 4-5 hours and at least 20 bags of trash were hauled to the dumpster. It was fun to see their faces light up as they found particular keepsakes, awards and favorite toys—long-lost relics of their fading childhood.

As for me, someone who loves organization and detests clutter, I was in heaven. We reduced the contents of our storage unit by at least two-thirds (I allowed them each to put a few tubs back in since some of them live in small apartments) and I felt like a weight was lifted off me, as I had been wanting to get this done for several years.

Why had I kept their childhood memories for so long, you might ask?

Well, because I knew that, eventually, this day would come, when they would all be grown with kids of their own. I was sure they would enjoy rediscovering their special keepsakes and favorite things. And I knew that the grandkids would love to see their parents’ most treasured items. Some things were snatched up by the grands to take home–new “old” toys that caught their eye despite their imperfections and aged patina.

Most of all, I knew that my kids needed the opportunity to view their childhood items from an adult perspective—to make their own decisions as to what still held value and what could be trashed. As we all know, things look a bit different with the passing of time.

I stayed out of the sorting process because . . . that was the point: The time had come for them to take ownership of their childhood flotsam and to make the decisions on what should be done with it. Watching the process was a glorious thing.

In case you’re wondering, it wasn’t lost on me that this project was a metaphor for life— parenting, in particular. There comes a time when we must emotionally release our kids to choose, decide, reason and wrestle—to make decisions and take responsibility without our help. Yes, this was also a “letting go” on my part since many of the items held special memories for me, as well. But in recent years, I have come to realize there is no point in continuing to hold on to “things.” As my wise father used to say, “Things aren’t important, people are.”

I’m sure that my children will always remember the dreaded “Post-Thanksgiving Day Project”. And someday they will chuckle as they glance up to the top shelf of a dusty closet, where their YMCA Soccer trophy (secretly tucked away out of view of their siblings on that day after Thanksgiving) sits proudly among the clutter and chaos of their adult life.

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

Matthew 6:19-21 (NKJV)