Releasing the Crap of My Ancestors

One day, almost 30 years ago now, I came home from work (I was living alone at the time), and I noticed a light on in the basement of my townhouse.

Now normally that would worry me. Who had been in my house? But I had a dog who was downstairs and I could hear her down there. I went down the stairs and the first thing I noticed was that a new light had been installed…a fluorescent light in my basement that brightened the entire space.

As I turned the corner, I saw about 30 boxes, sealed up and piled as though they had been there forever.

I walked over and examined them.

Ah. Mom and Dad were here.

They were in the process of moving out of their home with a basement and 3-car garage into a much smaller place where they intended to live after retirement.

And they brought all the things they no longer could store at their own house. A quick glance told me there were boxes full of old pictures, my Dad’s wood-working magazines, some of my old stuff from high school, boxes that contained cartons of Hummel original empty boxes. (The actual Hummels, owned by my mother, who died 7 years ago, are still at my Dad’s place.)

At the time, I was working 15 hours a day, and the boxes weren’t harming anyone in my basement.

Eventually, I got married, had a baby and we moved to a larger house with a larger basement, and all of those boxes went into the basement there.

And now, most recently, our basement has filled up with the stuff of our own lives (think at least 10 different backpacks from one kid).

So I decided to tackle everything by cleaning out the oldest and most useless stuff.

Little did I know what I was getting myself into.

Sometimes I think I should have just thrown the boxes out without ever even opening them. After all, they’d been unopened for thirty years.

First I found the mortgage records. From 1926. My grandfather and grandmother apparently purchased their house from my grandfather’s uncle. (“Who him?” exclaimed my Dad, ” he had an affair with my cousin’s mother-in-law!” Not my grandfather…my great-uncle…apparently). And I have lots of stories about the other side of the family…you think you have secrets? Once you’re dead, someone will talk.

The marriage certificate shown at the top is from another great uncle. From 1934. I asked my oldest living uncle, who is now 94, what I should do with it. He laughed. “Carol,” he said, “go get a shovel,” (at this point I knew I was in for it.) “And drive to Resurrection Cemetery. Find Grandma and Grandpa’s grave. Right next to them is Uncle —. bury that marriage certificate on his grave.” He had a hearty laugh. And then he told me to throw it out. Because Uncle — certainly didn’t need it any longer.

I contacted all my cousins to find out who wanted a certified death certificate from my Grandpa.

And among all the other boxes of paper, I discovered a small slip…the parochial permission for my grandmother to attend school.

This is interesting because it has the date of birth of my grandmother. It says 1899, and is sworn as being correct by my great grandmother.

Now I know for a fact that my grandmother was born in 1900. I have a copy of her birth certificate and her baptismal records. So apparently great grandma lied a teensy bit to get her into school early.

On top of all the other stuff, I discovered at least 6 boxes filled with goblets. Yes goblets…all the same. They have the crest of my father’s family on them, that I’m certain my mother ordered them from some catalog when I was a kid. Now, what am I supposed to do with those?

I have some cousins who still have the same last name and I think I’m going to send a set of them to all of them. That’s right. I’m going to spread it around.

While this has been a bit of a fascinating journey into my own personal history and that of my family, I cannot recommend it to others.

That’s why I’m cleaning my basement now. I don’t want to pass all this on to another generation. I don’t want my son to resent me for the crap of his ancestors.

None of us knows how much time we have left. And we all have just tons of documents and boxes of “stuff”. Think about where it will all end up.

And get started now.

There’s no time like the present.