06/15/2026
Lots of folks know that a couple of years ago we bought an extremely distressed historic property in Staunton to make our home. Restoring old places is what I do, and this one was the ultimate challenge. It was scary, messy, and honestly a little wild. We moved in with no heat or air conditioning, major plumbing issues, and a whole lot of "camping in a construction zone" energy. Normal for me haha.
The house has really come along, but there was one thing I didn't expect. My very first garage quickly became the holding place for everything that didn't have a home yet. Construction supplies, paint, a commode, books, appliances, boats, and boxes of family things from my parents, who are both gone now. T's family stuff too.
If you've ever had to sort through a lifetime of memories, you know it isn't really about the stuff. It's about the stories attached to it. T and I have been working through it little by little, and it has been incredibly freeing. One of the biggest changes? I finally unpacked my grandmother's china.
Almost 15 years since my mom passed away, it stayed in boxes because I couldn't decide what to do. Is it valuable? Is it complete? Would I regret selling it? This weekend I put it in the kitchen cabinet.
Now we'll use it all the time for ordinary meals, and the dishes that were there before will find a new home—probably in one of the furnished apartments I keep stocked for tenants.
That simple decision taught me something. Sometimes the best way to honor family heirlooms isn't to protect them. It's to let them be part of life.
The more we declutter, the more I realize that so many of us are carrying around postponed decisions. In our garages, our closets, and even on our phones with unread notifications and apps we never delete. It's deep, y'all! Working with clients who are downsizing, I understand this so much better now.
Having space means I can put things off, but it doesn't mean I should. I don't have all the answers, but I can tell you this: it feels amazing to finally begin. And by the time it snows again, we'll have room to park in the garage, sharing that space with only what we've chosen to keep.
Can you relate? I’m really asking!