This week’s Friday Fictioneer’s prompt – hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
My gran was a hoarder. A gifted one. She believed everything had a purpose. To her family, what she stored in those shoeboxes and bags was somewhat abstract and generally the flotsam of life. However, Granny believed she kept objects of value.
Ma fretted that one day she’d have to empty those boxes and shelves.
“Where am I going to put it all?”
“Granny isn’t going yet.” Please, not yet.
“No, but neither is her rubbish.”
“It’s not rubbish. They’re mementos of her life,” I argued.
“That’s the problem, it’s her life.”
“Then perhaps we should make them ours, too.”
I like this take on intergenerational communication — I can imagine them sitting down with Grandma and asking about what each piece of “rubbish” means to her, and hearing all kinds of interesting stories they’d never heard.
Sounds like a sensible grandchild. Nice story!
I’ve often observed that the value of items seems to skip a generation. I still have some tins, dishes and vases from the generation before my parents’ generation. Nicely done.
I think it’s an age thing. The young and old see such trinkets as interesting or holding memories, but for the generation in between it’s clutter!
I’m probably the case worrying about taking care of the clutter…
The parents are the ones who grow up with the clutter and have to endure it. Learning what the items mean to grandma is a great way to connect though.
One man’s or grannies treasure is another man’s junk.
You painted a visual with this story. Nicely done …
What a sweet story. At least someone in the family has some sentimentality. Nicely done.