You Can’t Take It With You

I have many friends and relatives who live a minimalist lifestyle. Their houses are immaculate and there is no clutter in any of the rooms. Everything has its place, which is out of view, most of the time. Yeah, that’s not me. The truth is, I like my stuff. I like to be surrounded by things that make me happy and it is difficult for me to purge the extra accumulation I have gathered over the years from family and from my antiques business. A lot of it is displayed or used regularly; some of it just sits in boxes, waiting for a purpose. I can usually dig up just the right thing for the task at hand, although sometimes it may take me a while to find exactly where I packed it. I suppose I should move the junk out before I leave this earth but I will likely wait until the last minute to do this.  Sorry kids; you can have a big sale.

My most valuable possessions are not really valuable. I have an old trunk that I paid $7 for at a garage sale that holds our old photos and doubles as a coffee table. I love it. I have a thick book that was published in 1955 that documents my maternal grandfather’s genealogic history to ancestors originating from Germany. My seventh great-grandfather, Peter Eichenberg, arrived in America in 1750, changing the family name to Eikenberry. He married and had many children who married and had many children. The book lists them all. Sadly, the family name ended in my line with my uncle who died before procreating but I am related to every single Eikenberry in the U.S., no matter the spelling. That’s a fun fact. 

I also have a hand-typed family tree documented by my uncle who followed my paternal grandmother’s and grandfather’s lines for six generations. These ancestors were either born in Denmark or Germany and arrived in the late 1800s or were born in the eastern half of the country.  They and my other relatives with roots in Ireland, England and Canada all eventually migrated to California and became woven into the fabric of our state. They, too, all had stuff.

I feel very privileged to have many of the items that my family collected and passed down over the years and I treasure every one of them. In fact, it breaks my heart if I damage a piece that has been entrusted to me. I try to be very careful but accidents do happen. Because of their generosity, I can set a beautiful holiday spread using the china, glass, silver and linens from days gone by. I have enough to set the table many times over. I have also acquired a beautiful, leather Morris chair and 1929 encyclopedia set with book table from the three-story family home in South Pasadena. I have three brightly colored, California pottery-style tile tables from the 1920s. They are so fun. I have an amazing Singer sewing cabinet, different than most. Both my grandmother and great-grandmother from different sides of the family were artists and I truly value having their paintings. When I look at them, I try to envision how they were feeling when they painted them.  They are one-of-a-kind.

It’s been difficult to break the habit of collecting since I closed my antiques business and plain ran out of space at home. I no longer drag old dressers home from trash piles to refinish them and hardly stop at garage sales anymore. I do miss chatting with neighbors in the way I used to engage with them, asking them about their items as I was about to take them home. I guess, for now, I will focus on community issues then come home to sit with my cool stuff.

Susan Bolan

susanbolan710@gmail.com

  Susan BOLAN