I know what you may be thinking. Here we go again with Abby’s random thoughts. But no, that is not where I am going with this. Instead, you all have the privilege of taking a deeper dive into my life. One full of chaos and fun. 

Some may say that I am a hoarder. But I really don’t agree with this assumption. I just simply don’t take the things I have in life for granted. And in order to show appreciation for these things I keep them. But I am particular about the things I keep. I do not keep my past homework assignments and I don’t keep old clothing that no longer fits. But there are certain things that I can just not part with. Some of these things are because of guilt but others are because they hold a lot of sentimental value. 

These are some of the shells that now live in my bathroom.

So to kick things off, I would like to illustrate for you my oldest collection. One that I think many of you can relate to. This is my collection of seashells. In my family’s bathroom on the main level, we have two big vases full of seashells that we collected in the past three years alone from Sanibel Island. There are shells ranging from Conch Shells and Olive Shells to Scotch Bonnet Shells (one of the rare ones to find). Put altogether in a vase it makes a masterpiece! How could one part with these shells?  But don’t worry I said this is one of my oldest collections. In random drawers, in my house, you can find bags full of seashells from trips when I was younger. Some of these shells are cracked in half or are ones that are faded in color. But how can one part with these? Although they aren’t the most beautiful, they have remained hard to part with. After all, some of these shells have been in my house for nine years. 

These are a majority of the paintings I have done that are now tucked in the back of my closet.

Anyways, the shells aren’t the only weird collection I have kept around my house. Another weird collection I have that I refuse to part with is any of my paintings I have done on a canvas. I will admit, I am not Vincent Van Gogh and my paintings really weren’t original (most were from birthday parties at places we would copy the instructors). But for some reason, my heart can’t part with these paintings, even though they sit at the back of my closet. I know for sure that I am showing more love to the paintings right now than a dumpster ever will and I guess that is a good enough reason to keep them. 

A stack of 5 blankets next to my bed. The oldest one was made in 3rd grade for my basketball team.

Another collection I have is a collection of blankets. But I feel like this is a pretty fair collection. Remember that time when we were in middle school and the most popular gift to give was blankets? Well, every blanket I have been given still remains somewhere in my house today. Don’t worry though, I have allowed myself to share this collection with my family. A quarter of them are kept in our freezing basement, some of them are used as decoration in the family room, and a majority of them are kept next to my bed and my sister’s bed. There is no wrong in being over-prepared in case we should ever lose heat. In my opinion, you can never have too many blankets. 

This pair of basketball shoes was the pair I wore for my first AAU game ever.

Lastly, one of my sentimental collections is keeping every single basketball shoe I have ever worn which takes up the entire floor beneath my bed (for your information I sleep on a queen size bed). Although I take the risk of making my room smell like dried-out sweat, knowing that my basketball shoes are underneath me at night is somewhat comforting. Whenever I look at the shoes I have collected over the years it reminds me of all the great memories that come along with them. Each team, each game played in a different state, the laughs, the tears, those shoes hold those memories and always will. You see what I mean now, these shoes hold such a big part of me in them. Doesn’t matter if they were a size 8 or a size 13 the memories within each of the shoes are just as important as the opportunities I have experienced. 

See, I am not a hoarder, instead, I would consider myself a sentimental collector. And I know that I am not the only one who struggles to let go of things that are attached to memories.  So if you all could, please share your collections in the comments.