Better Now Than Never

Our Decluttered Fireplace Mantel

We spend the first half of our lives accumulating things and the last half giving them away.

Author Unknown

Several years ago, when we were moving into a smaller home, we rented a storage unit for all the things we thought we should keep. It seemed like the sensible thing to do. Surely these were items too valuable, too sentimental, or too useful to part with.

A year later, I realized something surprising. We hadn’t visited the storage unit once. We hadn’t needed a single thing we were paying to store. Closing that account was easy. Understanding why it had been so difficult to let go was not.

Many of us keep possessions because they represent more than the objects themselves. They hold memories of people we loved, homes we lived in, and chapters of our lives that feel too important to pack away in a donation box. We worry that letting go of the object somehow means letting go of the memory.

I’ve discovered that isn’t true. Perhaps this realization comes with age, or perhaps it comes from seeing life a little more clearly. I’ve begun to understand that the memories stay with us, even when the possessions don’t.

Lately I’ve been sorting through family treasures that once seemed impossible to part with. Among them are half a dozen framed family photographs, some well over a hundred years old. They’re beautiful, but my son has neither the desire nor the wall space to display them. What he really wants are digital copies—something he can preserve without the responsibility of storing large framed portraits.

So I’m trying to find the originals a new home. I’m reaching out to relatives with larger families, hoping the photographs will continue to be appreciated and eventually passed down to another generation. It feels like a better ending than having them tucked away in a closet where no one sees them.

I’ve also become much better at giving things away, donating them, recycling them, or simply throwing them out when they’ve served their purpose. There is something deeply satisfying about opening a drawer or cabinet that has been thoughtfully pared down. The extra space feels surprisingly peaceful. Instead of focusing on what is gone, I find myself appreciating what remains.

There’s another reason I’ve become more intentional about all of this.I don’t want to leave my son with a house full of possessions and the burden of deciding what to  do with them. While I have every intention of being around for many years, I also know that none of us gets to live forever. Sorting through someone else’s lifetime of belongings is often an emotional task made even harder by the sheer volume of things. I’d rather make those decisions myself. It’s a small final act of kindness—keeping what truly matters, sharing what someone else can use, and letting go of the rest.

As my grandmother liked to say, “Better now than never.”The older I get, the more wisdom I hear in those simple words. Letting go isn’t about giving up the past. It’s about making room for the present, preserving what is truly meaningful, and leaving behind memories instead of clutter.

Peace be with you.