"Bulk is too personal to be written like a scourge, too fraught to be written like a haven. It’s just an American ethos that sits very close to the bone."
I think a fair bit about hoarders because we have an immediate neighbor who is one -- every couple years our condo association forces her to hire a clean-out crew and then within days she's back bringing carts full of stuff into her place. I don't know her well enough to have any guess at what motivates her, but I know it hurts her -- her adult child will occasionally visit but I don't think she'll go inside the apartment. (The one time I've been inside, to help with something my neighbor couldn't reach, the smell alone was powerful reason not to go in.)
At some point I did some errands for a former coworker who was largely homebound and she apologetically said that some apartment inspection had classified her as one of the lower stages of hoarder and I looked around and said something like "I know a serious hoarder. You're just a person who's had a full life that doesn't quite fit into the size of apartment you have now."
That's something I think a lot about -- how the amount of space you have (related directly to the amount of money you have, in most cases) can determine how you're viewed on this front. Of course some people, like the grandfather and father described here, are so extreme that no amount of money could cover it up. But, like, when I met her, my mother-in-law was in an impeccable, beautifully decorated 4,000 square foot home -- and when she went to downsize, it turned out that out of sight of the clean surfaces and lack of clutter, there was So Much Stuff. Every cabinet, every closet was jammed full. She gave us bags of old mail she'd never passed along to my husband, like years of bank statements and wedding invitations, and a stray tax document for one of his cousins who'd used her as an address during college. There was a big basement storage room filled with furniture from her previous 7,000 square foot house -- she didn't have room to use it but hadn't wanted to get rid of it. So she had this massive amount of stuff, but it was invisible. She hired an organizer and took weeks or months paring it down. Which she did, but as long as her space allowed it, her inclination had been to hold onto everything.
Related to this interview and also not: I love this substack and the books that are featured here. I almost always add them to my library queue or purchase them. However, I am a dreadfully slow reader, and I am amassing a pile of books that I desperately want to read, but I have all but stopped reading because I am so overwhelmed by the volume. Is this a kind of hoarding? Of ideas? Of the possibility to acquire knowledge or wisdom or insights before I die? Or, in the process of their acquisition, I could achieve a kind of immortality?
I go through periods of accumulating some aspirational reading piles and then realising that I will never actually get through them and that I don't have to. It's not a course of study, I will never finish them all, I don't have to start books that were once interesting but that moment has passed, etc. It seems particularly easy to accumulate ebooks than print books and that adds to the invisible pressure.
I also think a lot of people haven't learned to treat non-fiction books in particular as, like, farmer's markets where you don't have to buy everything, you can browse and hang out at one stand for awhile. They're constructed as full books, of course, but that doesn't mean you can't dip in and out.
this! definitely keeps me up a bit as well. my latest strategy for non-fiction, which i am even more slow to read, is to find a podcast discussing the book and seeing if that scratches the itch. if i'm still interested, i'll borrow the book, and remind myself there is no reason i have to read every chapter. a work in progress, but better than just *guilt*
I don’t have a huge personal library compared to most of my acquaintances but I am in the process of doing a large book culling. It’s been… great? I have my MLIS (graduate degree for librarians) and constantly remind myself major circulating libraries exist with good research collections and I can interlibrary loan virtually anything I get rid of. I just got back from dropping off a couple big bags of books to the Friends of the Library book sale warehouse. I’ve cataloged most of my home library in LibraryThing and that keeps me honest too. Like, “do I really want to have to maintain more than 500 books?”
I recently realized through therapy that my unnecessary frugality is a result of my upbringing and it was a strange realization to have. I tend to "hoard" my earnings, just sitting on it for no reason. In truth, the reason is I'm afraid of losing everything, of some unknown catastrophic event that will leave me destitute, which I feel is a typical millennial response; we lived through the 2008 recession where we literally did watch people lose everything. I've since then created a comfortable life for myself and still toil and stress over spending on things like even fixing my roof. Crazy. All that to say, I related on a very deep level to this, I felt very seen. It was an excellent interview, and will be purchasing that book.
I feel this come up every time I talk to my parents about money. They are so proud that I have a good job and make a good living and are frequently insinuating “well, you could afford that now”. And I have the visceral, angry reaction that’s part “what I make now does not mean what it meant in the 80s!!!” and part “did YOU need to empty your savings at 25 to cover unexpected medical treatment?!? nope” and part “who do you think taught me saving was morally good and spending was morally bad in the first place?!?”
An interview worthy of “Just trust me,” for sure. My family has a similarly fraught relationship—across generations—with class and wealth and stuff and accumulation, and the fear and shame and dopamine hits that go hand in hand with all of it. Cannot wait to read the book!
I love so much about this interview and want to talk about my grandmother’s obsession with collecting cardboard boxes and wrapping supplies to reuse that I have inherited (who needs a small trunk of already curled curling ribbon???) but first:
This is the perfect opportunity to put my brilliant new store idea out there and hopefully one of you beautiful people will be inspired! You don’t even have to pay me royalties just knowing it exists would make me happy. So I’m thinking, what we need is the opposite of Costco—I like to call it Minico! With two thirds of American households made up of one to two people, there should be a huge market (pun unintentional) for small sizes of things. I am specifically interested in half bags of marshmallows (no one can finish a full bag making s’mores for one child!), 4 oz containers of sour cream, and half bundles of cilantro. Let’s make this happen!!!
As a two-person household, I love this. Relatedly, I want my fill-it-yourself bins back. There are few stores near me that offer these anymore, and I sorely miss them. I don't want to buy 3 pounds of a grain for a specific recipe that I don't know if I'm going to make again, just let me buy one cup at a time.
This is one of the casualties of globalization in India. We used to have small general stores local to neighbourhoods. All the items were stored in the back. You handed your list over to the storekeeper and they would pack the quantities requested (you could ask for 5g of a spice for example) in squares of newspaper. All of the newspaper packets were then packed into your shopping basket. So much less waste, so much fresher and you didn’t need lots of storage space.
This is the main reason why my husband and I use a meal kit service (HelloFresh). If you only need one sprig of rosemary, they send you one sprig. My husband's office cafeteria was, sadly, a pandemic-era casualty, but back when it was open, I'd frequently ask him to pick up, say, two celery sticks from the salad bar, because I know I'd never use an entire package of it before it went bad.
Oh, yes, the salad bar option! I needed one stalk of celery recently and forgot that I could have gotten some at the grocery store's salad bar, where I sometimes buy just enough lettuce for 1-2 salads rather than a big bag.
Also, I may be a jerk, but I believe that every rosemary bush planted in planter strips (which are within the public right of way) are neighborhood rosemary bushes. I wouldn't decimate a plant but I always help myself to a sprig or two... They seem to grow so prolifically!
Interesting! Most of the grocery stores hereabouts (Toronto area and probably other urban areas in Canada -- maybe not so much smaller towns?) have a bulk foods area where you can buy baking supplies and candy pieces (spices, nuts, etc.), in whatever quantity you need from bins. There's even a chain of stores (currently about 275 -- I checked) called Bulk Barn. There was a viral video on social media a while back showing an American tourist who was absolutely floored by her visit to a Bulk Barn -- I guess these comments explain why...??
I have read this book and it is so so so good! Five hundred stars. The way I recognized myself in these pages was so incredibly healing. Thank you for this interview!
I have a parent who's a hoarder, but I think probably moreso because she's a shopaholic than everything else. There was just always so much stuff surrounding us, but never a peaceful environment; I'd have every book I ever wanted (that one was a good parenting decision) but not clean laundry. I think in a way, it's given me a bit of an opposite problem — I struggle to buy things, even when they're things I want and perfectly within budget. Sometimes when I get intoxicated I start ordering things off my shopping list google doc because it's the easiest way to make myself take care of myself. (I have finally replaced my long-broken shoe rack as of last week!)
Anyway. Excellent interview that made some excellent connections for me.
Wow, this interview connected a lot of threads for me that I previously thought about as very distant from each other! Lots to think about and looking forward to reading the book.
Bulk is a saving grace for me, or more accurately, my extremely damaged intestine. Hemorrhagic e coli 20 years ago eventually led me to only tolerate about a dozen ingredients, carefully constructed into two weird meals a day. If I lose one food, it throws off everything. Supply chain issues become gut issues. Most of it's fresh, but hoarding extra boxes of my one safe brand of rice noodles offers continuity when they're backordered.
Store trips are costly for me, and small shipments are costly for the environment. Keeping around essentials like the one floss I don't react to becomes a personal care concern.
It is funny how sickness has pushed me into acting like a completely different person. Old me walked to the Co-op once a day or so and lived in a studio apartment.
I think an added component—and please correct me if I’m wrong—is how alone you are in carrying that burden. Bulk is a protection against harm the same way social services might otherwise be. You need extra rice noodles because if you cannot get them for yourself, either another individual tracks them down for you, or they’re not coming, and then you suffer. It’s not right, Kira, and I wish it were different. I wish we had community social workers who could organize group shopping trips for those who need help, and basic income so food was never out of reach. But for now we have Costco, and all its mixed blessings.
I totally understand what both of you are saying. There is a way to have a healthy relationship with places of excess like Costco if they serve a need that can't easily or cheaply be fulfilled through other sources.
Also, an unrelated comment about the interview, a weekly Costco visit is unimaginable, lol. Who has the space and funds for that?
The funny thing is, the only time I've ever been a Costco member was when we lived in San Francisco and there was one walking distance away. We had a baby and no car and I would push the stroller over and get whatever I could fit in a backpack and the basket of the stroller. Such a weird life experience of that particular store.
Wow, this interview is going to sit with me for a while and I will need to read the book when I have the emotional capacity for it.
My family has hoarders in it. I grew up in houses with piles of things everywhere. It's difficult to talk about what that's like -- the mix of shame but also just the lack of words to describe it. It's clear it's had such an influence on my family members from those struggling with hoarding tendencies to the ones who are ultra minimalist. And class plays a big role. Almost every member of my family with a clean home is wealthy enough to afford a housecleaner.
A member of my extended family has experienced major childhood trauma common to a lot of diasporic communities. He also loves Costco and free refills to a weirdly obsessive degree, and I’m grateful for this interview helping some things click into place for explaining what is probably going on here.
Immediately buying this book and bumping it up the TBR list. This has been on my mind and this interview couldn't have come at a more perfect time. Thank you Anne!
I related to this interview in a lot of ways, and I've witnessed my parents struggle with this. My dad has long been a keeper of things that no longer have a use, and it got a lot worse when his father died. At that point, his mother (a Depression-era army brat) was more than happy to garage sale so much of stuff and downsize the house to a retirement community apartment. Meanwhile, my dad acquired ancient power tools and a bajillion things that have since lived nowhere but the basement of the ranch house where I grew up, alongside rooms of old documents, unusable skis, dried-out paint cans, two-by-fours, and I'm sure a lot of other things I've never seen. The only reason the house isn't overrun is my mother - she's not a minimalist, and she loves her Virgo-style earthly delights, but she can't tolerate bulk, in the definition of the interview. I was asking her the other day why she doesn't do art, even though she encourages me to do it, and she said something like "it's more stuff to have in the house." I would not call art supplies bulk! But given that my dad's office is a danger zone of accumulation, it's all she can do to keep the rest of their small house from becoming the same. While my tendencies lean in her direction, I empathize with my dad, as I have a deep fear of losing things that mean something to me - journals, photos, memorable family objects, and the like. For me, these items are not bulk in the same way that purchasable products are, but they may be for someone else.
Thanks for sharing this, Lucy. My parents have a very (very!) similar dynamic, and recently doing a big house clean out for an upcoming renovation has brought a lot of big emotions to the fore.
This made me think about how much pressure my grandmother felt to take so much of the stuff my great grandmother owned after she passed away, and how upset she got when her siblings and siblings-in-law weren’t as interested in or attached to things as she was. She’s not as close to them as she used to be. It’s the opposite extreme to this author’s dad and grandmother, I think. Everything is meaningful. Everything is a symbol of connection to our family and our past, and it’s inconceivable and deeply hurtful to her when others will let go of those. Getting rid of things is so hard for her—she hates to, but also, she worries about it so much. Every time I talk to her now, she’ll bring up some piece of furniture or clothing or something that she wonders if I want to take from her house. If I don’t want it now, I can have it when she passes away. And so on. I know she does this with the rest of my family too. It’s really hard to see her so stressed out, and it stresses me and my brother out too—it’s really rough to be talking about our grandma dying every time we see her, not in a way that lets us emotionally process that or value our time with her, but in this upside down world where we care more about her stuff than her being gone. I’ve been saying yes, I’ll take that, when she asks more often, and hoping that it feels like offering her relief and showing her love. But that feeling of hoping your old house burns down—my family wishes her basement would flood and we’d get to let everything she’s worrying about down there go.
For my non-sibling family members, when they’ve pressed stuff on me, like you I’ve said I’ll take it. Though I don’t promise to keep it!
My brother was this tender towards family items and — maybe because he was a sibling rather than a grandparent — it drove me crazy.
He was angry with me when I had a yard sale to clean out a relative’s house for whose estate I was executor, and when I marked everything down late in the sale, he became outright furious. The discounted price was, in his view, discounting the relative value as a person. My brother bought up almost all the remaining stuff so that it didn’t “go to strangers.” Then all that stuff he bought sat in storage till he died unexpectedly 10 years later.
He amassed storage units full of stuff — lots of eBay purchases, lots of “collectibles, lots of odd lots from auctions — that he saw as valuable and I saw as crap.
And he remembered every single thing he gave me, and would look around my house to see if I had each item on display.
Now that’s he’s gone I unexpectedly am finding it hard to get rid of the stuff he gave me. I don’t even like it, but it reminds me of him. So maybe I’m more like him than I was willing to admit.
This is beautiful, thanks.
I think a fair bit about hoarders because we have an immediate neighbor who is one -- every couple years our condo association forces her to hire a clean-out crew and then within days she's back bringing carts full of stuff into her place. I don't know her well enough to have any guess at what motivates her, but I know it hurts her -- her adult child will occasionally visit but I don't think she'll go inside the apartment. (The one time I've been inside, to help with something my neighbor couldn't reach, the smell alone was powerful reason not to go in.)
At some point I did some errands for a former coworker who was largely homebound and she apologetically said that some apartment inspection had classified her as one of the lower stages of hoarder and I looked around and said something like "I know a serious hoarder. You're just a person who's had a full life that doesn't quite fit into the size of apartment you have now."
That's something I think a lot about -- how the amount of space you have (related directly to the amount of money you have, in most cases) can determine how you're viewed on this front. Of course some people, like the grandfather and father described here, are so extreme that no amount of money could cover it up. But, like, when I met her, my mother-in-law was in an impeccable, beautifully decorated 4,000 square foot home -- and when she went to downsize, it turned out that out of sight of the clean surfaces and lack of clutter, there was So Much Stuff. Every cabinet, every closet was jammed full. She gave us bags of old mail she'd never passed along to my husband, like years of bank statements and wedding invitations, and a stray tax document for one of his cousins who'd used her as an address during college. There was a big basement storage room filled with furniture from her previous 7,000 square foot house -- she didn't have room to use it but hadn't wanted to get rid of it. So she had this massive amount of stuff, but it was invisible. She hired an organizer and took weeks or months paring it down. Which she did, but as long as her space allowed it, her inclination had been to hold onto everything.
Related to this interview and also not: I love this substack and the books that are featured here. I almost always add them to my library queue or purchase them. However, I am a dreadfully slow reader, and I am amassing a pile of books that I desperately want to read, but I have all but stopped reading because I am so overwhelmed by the volume. Is this a kind of hoarding? Of ideas? Of the possibility to acquire knowledge or wisdom or insights before I die? Or, in the process of their acquisition, I could achieve a kind of immortality?
Dude, it's stressful.
Oliver Burkeman suggests treating your TBR pile as a river not a bucket - https://www.oliverburkeman.com/river
I go through periods of accumulating some aspirational reading piles and then realising that I will never actually get through them and that I don't have to. It's not a course of study, I will never finish them all, I don't have to start books that were once interesting but that moment has passed, etc. It seems particularly easy to accumulate ebooks than print books and that adds to the invisible pressure.
I also think a lot of people haven't learned to treat non-fiction books in particular as, like, farmer's markets where you don't have to buy everything, you can browse and hang out at one stand for awhile. They're constructed as full books, of course, but that doesn't mean you can't dip in and out.
this! definitely keeps me up a bit as well. my latest strategy for non-fiction, which i am even more slow to read, is to find a podcast discussing the book and seeing if that scratches the itch. if i'm still interested, i'll borrow the book, and remind myself there is no reason i have to read every chapter. a work in progress, but better than just *guilt*
I don’t have a huge personal library compared to most of my acquaintances but I am in the process of doing a large book culling. It’s been… great? I have my MLIS (graduate degree for librarians) and constantly remind myself major circulating libraries exist with good research collections and I can interlibrary loan virtually anything I get rid of. I just got back from dropping off a couple big bags of books to the Friends of the Library book sale warehouse. I’ve cataloged most of my home library in LibraryThing and that keeps me honest too. Like, “do I really want to have to maintain more than 500 books?”
I recently realized through therapy that my unnecessary frugality is a result of my upbringing and it was a strange realization to have. I tend to "hoard" my earnings, just sitting on it for no reason. In truth, the reason is I'm afraid of losing everything, of some unknown catastrophic event that will leave me destitute, which I feel is a typical millennial response; we lived through the 2008 recession where we literally did watch people lose everything. I've since then created a comfortable life for myself and still toil and stress over spending on things like even fixing my roof. Crazy. All that to say, I related on a very deep level to this, I felt very seen. It was an excellent interview, and will be purchasing that book.
I feel this come up every time I talk to my parents about money. They are so proud that I have a good job and make a good living and are frequently insinuating “well, you could afford that now”. And I have the visceral, angry reaction that’s part “what I make now does not mean what it meant in the 80s!!!” and part “did YOU need to empty your savings at 25 to cover unexpected medical treatment?!? nope” and part “who do you think taught me saving was morally good and spending was morally bad in the first place?!?”
THIS RIGHT HERE
An interview worthy of “Just trust me,” for sure. My family has a similarly fraught relationship—across generations—with class and wealth and stuff and accumulation, and the fear and shame and dopamine hits that go hand in hand with all of it. Cannot wait to read the book!
I love so much about this interview and want to talk about my grandmother’s obsession with collecting cardboard boxes and wrapping supplies to reuse that I have inherited (who needs a small trunk of already curled curling ribbon???) but first:
This is the perfect opportunity to put my brilliant new store idea out there and hopefully one of you beautiful people will be inspired! You don’t even have to pay me royalties just knowing it exists would make me happy. So I’m thinking, what we need is the opposite of Costco—I like to call it Minico! With two thirds of American households made up of one to two people, there should be a huge market (pun unintentional) for small sizes of things. I am specifically interested in half bags of marshmallows (no one can finish a full bag making s’mores for one child!), 4 oz containers of sour cream, and half bundles of cilantro. Let’s make this happen!!!
As a two-person household, I love this. Relatedly, I want my fill-it-yourself bins back. There are few stores near me that offer these anymore, and I sorely miss them. I don't want to buy 3 pounds of a grain for a specific recipe that I don't know if I'm going to make again, just let me buy one cup at a time.
This is one of the casualties of globalization in India. We used to have small general stores local to neighbourhoods. All the items were stored in the back. You handed your list over to the storekeeper and they would pack the quantities requested (you could ask for 5g of a spice for example) in squares of newspaper. All of the newspaper packets were then packed into your shopping basket. So much less waste, so much fresher and you didn’t need lots of storage space.
I would happily pay the same amount for 1/6 of the absolutely bushel of fresh herbs I am forced to buy.
This is the main reason why my husband and I use a meal kit service (HelloFresh). If you only need one sprig of rosemary, they send you one sprig. My husband's office cafeteria was, sadly, a pandemic-era casualty, but back when it was open, I'd frequently ask him to pick up, say, two celery sticks from the salad bar, because I know I'd never use an entire package of it before it went bad.
Oh, yes, the salad bar option! I needed one stalk of celery recently and forgot that I could have gotten some at the grocery store's salad bar, where I sometimes buy just enough lettuce for 1-2 salads rather than a big bag.
Also, I may be a jerk, but I believe that every rosemary bush planted in planter strips (which are within the public right of way) are neighborhood rosemary bushes. I wouldn't decimate a plant but I always help myself to a sprig or two... They seem to grow so prolifically!
Interesting! Most of the grocery stores hereabouts (Toronto area and probably other urban areas in Canada -- maybe not so much smaller towns?) have a bulk foods area where you can buy baking supplies and candy pieces (spices, nuts, etc.), in whatever quantity you need from bins. There's even a chain of stores (currently about 275 -- I checked) called Bulk Barn. There was a viral video on social media a while back showing an American tourist who was absolutely floored by her visit to a Bulk Barn -- I guess these comments explain why...??
I have read this book and it is so so so good! Five hundred stars. The way I recognized myself in these pages was so incredibly healing. Thank you for this interview!
I have a parent who's a hoarder, but I think probably moreso because she's a shopaholic than everything else. There was just always so much stuff surrounding us, but never a peaceful environment; I'd have every book I ever wanted (that one was a good parenting decision) but not clean laundry. I think in a way, it's given me a bit of an opposite problem — I struggle to buy things, even when they're things I want and perfectly within budget. Sometimes when I get intoxicated I start ordering things off my shopping list google doc because it's the easiest way to make myself take care of myself. (I have finally replaced my long-broken shoe rack as of last week!)
Anyway. Excellent interview that made some excellent connections for me.
It's on backorder at Bookshop, so congrats! Hoping to grab it at a brick-and-mortar indie!
Wow, this interview connected a lot of threads for me that I previously thought about as very distant from each other! Lots to think about and looking forward to reading the book.
Bulk is a saving grace for me, or more accurately, my extremely damaged intestine. Hemorrhagic e coli 20 years ago eventually led me to only tolerate about a dozen ingredients, carefully constructed into two weird meals a day. If I lose one food, it throws off everything. Supply chain issues become gut issues. Most of it's fresh, but hoarding extra boxes of my one safe brand of rice noodles offers continuity when they're backordered.
Store trips are costly for me, and small shipments are costly for the environment. Keeping around essentials like the one floss I don't react to becomes a personal care concern.
It is funny how sickness has pushed me into acting like a completely different person. Old me walked to the Co-op once a day or so and lived in a studio apartment.
I think an added component—and please correct me if I’m wrong—is how alone you are in carrying that burden. Bulk is a protection against harm the same way social services might otherwise be. You need extra rice noodles because if you cannot get them for yourself, either another individual tracks them down for you, or they’re not coming, and then you suffer. It’s not right, Kira, and I wish it were different. I wish we had community social workers who could organize group shopping trips for those who need help, and basic income so food was never out of reach. But for now we have Costco, and all its mixed blessings.
I totally understand what both of you are saying. There is a way to have a healthy relationship with places of excess like Costco if they serve a need that can't easily or cheaply be fulfilled through other sources.
Also, an unrelated comment about the interview, a weekly Costco visit is unimaginable, lol. Who has the space and funds for that?
The funny thing is, the only time I've ever been a Costco member was when we lived in San Francisco and there was one walking distance away. We had a baby and no car and I would push the stroller over and get whatever I could fit in a backpack and the basket of the stroller. Such a weird life experience of that particular store.
Wow, this interview is going to sit with me for a while and I will need to read the book when I have the emotional capacity for it.
My family has hoarders in it. I grew up in houses with piles of things everywhere. It's difficult to talk about what that's like -- the mix of shame but also just the lack of words to describe it. It's clear it's had such an influence on my family members from those struggling with hoarding tendencies to the ones who are ultra minimalist. And class plays a big role. Almost every member of my family with a clean home is wealthy enough to afford a housecleaner.
A member of my extended family has experienced major childhood trauma common to a lot of diasporic communities. He also loves Costco and free refills to a weirdly obsessive degree, and I’m grateful for this interview helping some things click into place for explaining what is probably going on here.
Immediately buying this book and bumping it up the TBR list. This has been on my mind and this interview couldn't have come at a more perfect time. Thank you Anne!
Purchased this book immediately! Thanks for the rec, I will always go along with your “just trust me-s” ☺️
I related to this interview in a lot of ways, and I've witnessed my parents struggle with this. My dad has long been a keeper of things that no longer have a use, and it got a lot worse when his father died. At that point, his mother (a Depression-era army brat) was more than happy to garage sale so much of stuff and downsize the house to a retirement community apartment. Meanwhile, my dad acquired ancient power tools and a bajillion things that have since lived nowhere but the basement of the ranch house where I grew up, alongside rooms of old documents, unusable skis, dried-out paint cans, two-by-fours, and I'm sure a lot of other things I've never seen. The only reason the house isn't overrun is my mother - she's not a minimalist, and she loves her Virgo-style earthly delights, but she can't tolerate bulk, in the definition of the interview. I was asking her the other day why she doesn't do art, even though she encourages me to do it, and she said something like "it's more stuff to have in the house." I would not call art supplies bulk! But given that my dad's office is a danger zone of accumulation, it's all she can do to keep the rest of their small house from becoming the same. While my tendencies lean in her direction, I empathize with my dad, as I have a deep fear of losing things that mean something to me - journals, photos, memorable family objects, and the like. For me, these items are not bulk in the same way that purchasable products are, but they may be for someone else.
Thanks for sharing this, Lucy. My parents have a very (very!) similar dynamic, and recently doing a big house clean out for an upcoming renovation has brought a lot of big emotions to the fore.
This made me think about how much pressure my grandmother felt to take so much of the stuff my great grandmother owned after she passed away, and how upset she got when her siblings and siblings-in-law weren’t as interested in or attached to things as she was. She’s not as close to them as she used to be. It’s the opposite extreme to this author’s dad and grandmother, I think. Everything is meaningful. Everything is a symbol of connection to our family and our past, and it’s inconceivable and deeply hurtful to her when others will let go of those. Getting rid of things is so hard for her—she hates to, but also, she worries about it so much. Every time I talk to her now, she’ll bring up some piece of furniture or clothing or something that she wonders if I want to take from her house. If I don’t want it now, I can have it when she passes away. And so on. I know she does this with the rest of my family too. It’s really hard to see her so stressed out, and it stresses me and my brother out too—it’s really rough to be talking about our grandma dying every time we see her, not in a way that lets us emotionally process that or value our time with her, but in this upside down world where we care more about her stuff than her being gone. I’ve been saying yes, I’ll take that, when she asks more often, and hoping that it feels like offering her relief and showing her love. But that feeling of hoping your old house burns down—my family wishes her basement would flood and we’d get to let everything she’s worrying about down there go.
For my non-sibling family members, when they’ve pressed stuff on me, like you I’ve said I’ll take it. Though I don’t promise to keep it!
My brother was this tender towards family items and — maybe because he was a sibling rather than a grandparent — it drove me crazy.
He was angry with me when I had a yard sale to clean out a relative’s house for whose estate I was executor, and when I marked everything down late in the sale, he became outright furious. The discounted price was, in his view, discounting the relative value as a person. My brother bought up almost all the remaining stuff so that it didn’t “go to strangers.” Then all that stuff he bought sat in storage till he died unexpectedly 10 years later.
He amassed storage units full of stuff — lots of eBay purchases, lots of “collectibles, lots of odd lots from auctions — that he saw as valuable and I saw as crap.
And he remembered every single thing he gave me, and would look around my house to see if I had each item on display.
Now that’s he’s gone I unexpectedly am finding it hard to get rid of the stuff he gave me. I don’t even like it, but it reminds me of him. So maybe I’m more like him than I was willing to admit.