Relentless with a trash bag, my mom scours the house looking for things to send to the curb. As children we were banned from the formal living room, where the parallel lines of her vaccuum cleaner stood guard. The fireplace mantle was sparsely decorated, only family photos were deemed important enough to decorate her hearth.
You can call her unsentimental, but you would be wrong.
When Abbey was born, treasures began spilling forth from her (I'm betting) meticulously organized attic. Sesame Street books, Golden books, and Little Bear books in almost mint condition, although I know they were read often, as the stories came flooding back the minute I heard her calm voice reading to my daughter (and now my son). An old Speak & Spell, a toy that held my attention for countless road trips, long before the days of the DS.
Perhaps the most exciting of all are the vintage Fisher Price toys - the drum containing other instruments, the circus cars with the clown and multitude of animals that can hang from the cars, and the little barn with the door that still (almost) moos when you open it to let the animals in and out.
So keep her away from your overflowing closets, packed cabinets, and disorganized drawers, but those perfect little toys show that my mom would never throw out anything that really matters.
Dylan and Daddy playing with the barn
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