I have a bad reputation as a “stuff cop” who stands between you and the things you love. Sure, I urge anyone with too much stuff (myself included) to organize, sort, donate, toss, sell, organize, give away, or discard, but as you’ll see today, sometimes I say, “Hold on a second.”
The story of my grandfather’s lost painting is one example.
Long ago, before he married my grandmother, had four children, sailed from Scotland to America, found work, and brought his family over and settled in Pennsylvania, Samuel McCormack painted. He seems to have stopped painting around 1910, when that life was interrupted, at the age of 22.
The only remnants of this chapter of my father’s youth, two 26-by-20-inch still-life watercolors, and the only evidence of his interest, if not ability, hung in my family’s home outside Scranton until 2013. That year, my Aunt Margaret, my mother’s eldest sister and the last relative living in the house, at age 98, moved into an assisted living facility.
My aunt was unmarried and had no children, so my cousin and his wife took on the huge task of clearing out her family’s house, which was full of belongings. My brother and I were curious about what had become of my grandfather’s artwork, but since we didn’t help with the housework, we didn’t have the courage to ask.
“Maybe they sold it to a roadside antiques shop for $5,” his brother speculated sadly.
“Or I gave them to a neighbor,” I said. Either way, they were lost.
My brother Craig, an architect, is also an artist. He paints and designs. He wished he had known my grandfather more before we met. He wished he could have talked to him about art. He wondered what might have become of his talents if his work and the demands of our family had been different. He also wished he could have had access to a lost painting that was a part of him, a testament to the interests we shared. The idea that the painting might still be out there somewhere haunted him.
Fast forward to the present. A few years ago, my cousin died of cancer. Her husband came to visit recently. He told me he was still sorting through her belongings. And casually said, “You know, I’ve got this old painting of your grandfather’s that I don’t know what to do with.”
I froze. “You have a picture of my grandpa?!”
Within a week the painting was in my hands, bubble wrapped, boxed and ready to ship. The UPS clerk asked how much was in excess of the $100 they offer as standard coverage.
I thought about it for a moment. The difference between sentimental value and monetary value is often hard to interpret. And I said, “Nothing. The only things that are valuable are me and my brother.” To Craig, who now enjoys the artwork in his Michigan home, they are priceless.
I share this story because it’s a textbook example of what to keep, as opposed to my usual focus on what to let go of from our parents’ and grandparents’ inheritances. Here are some things to consider when deciding whether to keep, throw away, or sell your heirlooms:
• Identify what is meaningful. Separate what is important from what is not. For example, you might keep wedding rings (especially if the marriage was worth honoring), items skillfully crafted by a loved one (art, sewing, woodcarving, quilting, etc.), musical instruments (especially if the heirs share a musical talent), professional honors, etc. I have my parents’ military medals. My husband has the sign that hung outside his grandfather’s photography studio.
• Select and preserve. Don’t let your family history disappear. Save a few pieces that have special meaning, that belong in your home, that resonate with you. For Craig, his grandfather’s paintings checked all the boxes. Selecting and preserving them will increase the value of the items.
• Share stories. Cherished items can live on through generations of your heirs, but only if you are selective about what you preserve and communicate why you chose them. We never knew our grandfather personally, but his memory was alive for us because my mother told us stories about his love of art and more.
• Apply the Keep Test: If the item has meaning (it’s not valuable), you love it, and you have a place to keep it (other than a box in the attic), keep it. If you don’t actively use it in your home or have the ability to treasure it, don’t keep it. Give it away. If the item has value but no meaning, sell it. Use the money to buy something that honors your loved one.
• Cherish the small things and the few things. Keep your pearls, not your piano. And remember, when everything matters, nothing matters.
• Honor your destiny. When a part of your past that you thought was lost finds you, a part that you cherish and haven’t forgotten, it may be a sign to hang on.
Marni Jameson is the author of seven books on home improvement and can be reached at marnijameson.com.