Trash Bag or Time Capsule? Cleaning Out a Parent’s Closet Can be Full of Trash or Cash by leslie cohen
Top 5 Reasons Your Parent’s Closet Is a Gamble Worth Taking
One person’s clutter is another’s inheritance.
Envelopes are suspicious until proven innocent.
Nostalgia hides in the weirdest corners.
Decluttering can double as detective work.
Sometimes you hit jackpot, sometimes you just want to hit a wall with your own head.
It felt like a major step: my mother finally agreed to let me tackle the closet in her office—also known as my childhood bedroom. Armed with a parachute-sized black trash bag and a “Must Keep” box, I dropped onto the green shag rug (half-expecting to find a joint from my 17-year-old self), ready to thin out decades of photocopied grammar packets and annotated novels that still smelled faintly of chalk dust and rebellion. From the top shelf, my Alice in Wonderland doll stared down at me, as if to say, “Your mother’s high school English teaching career is curiouser and curiouser.”
Me: Can we at least toss the grammar packets and your fifth copy of Lord of the Flies? You’re not going to teach pig metaphors ever again.
Mom: (glare) No. I love that book.
Progress was slow. Eventually Mom contributed to the cleaning by leaning back on the day bed pillows and occasionally mumbling, “No. keep that envelope.” “Yes, I guess…you can… donate the 8th copy of (insert EVERY book).”
Slowly, we got into a rhythm.
Envelope One: Chapter summaries of Lord of the Flies. Straight to the trash.
Envelope Two: Essay prompts for Of Mice and Men. Trash.
Envelope Three: Sentence diagramming exercises. Circa 1982. Trash.
Then came Envelope Four. Labeled simply: “SOA.”
Me: Mom, why does this have Sam’s initials on it?
Mom: I have no idea.
I cracked it open expecting a crayon drawing, a forgotten birthday card, maybe a shopping list from 2003. Instead—
Me: Oh my god. Money. Lots. Of. Money.
Mom: (without looking up) Just take it.
Me: What? I’m not just taking your money!
Mom: What am I going to do with it?
I poured it out on the carpet. Seventy crisp $100 bills.
Me: That’s SEVEN THOUSAND DOLLARS.
Mom: (blink) Huh.
Me: Do you know why it’s in the back of the closet?
Mom: Nope.
Me: Why it’s in an envelope with Sam’s initials on it?
Mom: Nope. (shrug) Let’s just split it.
I took a deep breath, snapped a photo, and texted it to my brother with the message: What would you do if I handed you an envelope with over $2,000 in it today?
His reply was immediate: Jesus. You’d better check that trash bag.
Lesson learned: the next closet purge will be less “tidy up” and more “archaeological dig.” Every Manila envelope gets opened. Because sometimes, decluttering doesn’t just spark joy—it pays!
dōteworthy:
The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning by Margareta Magnusson— a short, funny, and surprisingly comforting guide to clearing out your things before someone else has to. Perfect for Gen Xers navigating the dual task of managing their own “stuff” while helping parents part with decades of treasures. Check it out at your local library.
Another Mother’s Daughter specializes in making this experience “manageable, dignified, and healing”. Laurie Levin can help sort through decades of memories and help prepare for another chapter.
Consider donations to local places such as givit in Melbourne, Australia where your edited “stuff” will get a new life with people experiencing homelessness.
Turns out that decluttering helps with mental clarity too!
dōte note:
is there a closet that you’ve been meaning to help your aging loved one get a start on? how did it go? contribute your story to dōt.age!