When my mother died, my sister opened a large. blanket box
tucked away on the landing. It was full of cards and letters sent to her over many years. Hundreds. She went through them all, over a few evenings. They were picked up by a charity.
Dad wasn’t at all sentimental and didn’t even know they were there.
It’s truly melancholy making to think of all the many photographs binned and burnt, of people we didn’t know,
not our memories, same as my daughters.
I asked them if they wanted the New Baby cards when they were born, so many, looked at me askance, saying, we have no idea who these people were they are yours not ours.
Anything they may have fought over they have now.
Occasionally when either displease me I threaten to cut her/them out of my will, eliciting shrieks of laughter, fooling no one.
There are a couple of items I regret disposing of, despite the financial rewarding, bound to happen.
Don’t forget to advise of pin numbers and passwords.
They know any hard cash is in the freezer (frozen assets) hoping it will still be a valid currency, otherwise I will just have to spend it.