One day I was looking at a photo of me in my bedroom when I was about nine and I realized that I still own pretty much everything that was on the walls and shelves behind me. Seriously.

I have a very hard time getting rid of things. I remember the panic I felt when my mom made me "sell" her my dolls so I could have a softball glove because the coach said I couldn't play with my old t-ball glove. I had bad asthma and softball was the only sport I was allowed to play. (It was the 70's -- I know things are different now.)

One time my parents cleaned out my closet and threw out my old cast, which btw, I had in the summer and was pretty rank. That was also the time they threw out my saddle oxfords. I'd outgrown them. But I still miss the shoes.

For me, I think some of it was a reaction to my brother's death. I think that's why I always take photos of those near & dear.

Oddly, I've been able to get rid of more things since my patents died.