I’ve noticed that I hold on to everything. Everything in my house has sentimental value. I still have old t shirts I slept in because they remind me of old friends. I have so much junk that I can’t get rid of because I’m afraid I’ll forget.

My need to keep everything is getting out of hand. I found out that my family is selling a house that my grandparents owned before they passed. They used to use it as rental property, and for a while I lived there with my brother and mom. It makes me sad that they are selling a place where I have so many memories.

After my grandpa picked me up from school we would go there and I’d watch him as he fixed the place up. I saw the whole process and then was so proud when all the work was finished. The new sink was shiny and the carpet was clean. The whole place smelled of fresh paint. Lighted poured through the windows. I even remember my grandpa’s heavy footsteps as he walked down the back steps. I can see his knees bending and then the loud thump from his shoes. I remember how his shoes sounded as he walked down they alley to get into the backyard.

Maybe I’m being silly. Maybe I shouldn’t be so sad that they are getting rid of it. It’s just that deep down I feel like a piece of me is going with it.

T-