Our attic is getting a clear out. It was rammed with inherited framed prints and paintings as well as cardboard boxes full of legal papers. Receipts, jotters. Address books, suitcases and crafting paraphernalia.
Going through my mother’s papers, I have come across family trees and some correspondence that is worth keeping. The death certificates and funeral order of services are impossible to throw away for obvious reasons. My reporter notebooks kept for no particular reason had to go, losing such precious information as what I had for breakfast ten years ago. I have kept some of the dimensions and costings for our recent house renovation. We never really kept a proper record of how much we were spending. The inheritance disappeared first, and then we raided one of the pension funds.
Regrets…not at all. As Piaf sang “avec mes souvenirs j’ai allume le feu.”
Leave a Reply