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because that's what I want to do

My mom saved everything from when I was a kid. EVERYTHING. All my old school work, report cards, stuffed animals, baby and toddler clothes. I had to go through it all. Some I kept. Some I recycled. Some I told my brother to sell or donate.

I believe two things about my mom:

1. She really didn't believe me when I said I didn't want kids of my own. At least, she didn't believe me at the time when she was packing these things away.

And

2. She was the queen hoarder of all hoarders.

For about 40 seconds, when looking at my old baby clothes, I did feel bad that I had no one to pass these things on to. A serious consideration of having my own kid. It passed as quickly as it came, and I suppose it's just a natural reaction to being surrounded by several generations worth of STUFF and having no one to give it to. There is no way in hell I'd bring another human being into this fucked up world.

I got hold of a niece and she came and took all the kid clothes, but I have a bad feeling she just dumped everything off in a donation bin, or worse, the first dumpster she saw. I really wanted to keep some things in the family, and several of my nieces and nephews have little girls of their own. But, I truly don't think my gesture was appreciated. I said I wasn't having kids and it would be nice to keep things in the family, and she started talking about giving everything away, so yeah.

I guess I tried. I don't think those millenials, or whatever that generation wants to fucking call themselves, appreciates “old” things. I think it just grosses them out. If it doesn't stimulate them or gain them notice, what the fuck do they care?

And now I am sick. Like, antibiotic sick. Maybe it's from driving through Midwestern farm land at harvest time. Maybe it's from the mental stress. Maybe it's the tap water or dust in the old house or maybe I'm just suppose to curl up and die.

12:22 PM - Tuesday, Jul. 31, 2018

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