Julie Seedorf’s column appears in the Tribune every Monday.

It is amazing what one accumulates over the years. In the past I have written many columns around the subject of decluttering. The problem with getting rid of clutter is we have a tendency to bring more things back in to fill the spaces left by our last decluttering job, and so the cycle continues.

One of the problems I have is sentimentality, especially when it involves my family of origin. I tend to put value on things I think my mother and dad loved, and because of it I have a hard time letting go. I might not like the object, but I look at it and it reminds me of someone I loved who is not here anymore.

Over the last few years my creative space in the basement was ruined by plumbing  mishaps, and after they were fixed I gave up and let the dream of my space go. It seemed too much work to repaint and make it a creative space again, and so it became a large storage space with no rhyme or reason to order. It has been three years since I let that dream die. This is the year I feel the need to simplify and tackle that space, as far as cleaning it out and cleaning it up.

My daughter offered to help and, little did I know, on the day we planned this humongous task my back would be recovering from spasms and injury. We thought about postponing because all I could do was sit and sort. My daughter assured me her weight training qualified her to do the moving and heavy lifting.

I must admit I was ashamed she would have to help me with my accumulation. I found it good she was there because she isn’t moved by my sentimentality. I explained the memories of things from her ancestors that were packed away in boxes. She pointed out sentimentality was great but not if what I valued was packed in a box and out of sight. We whittled those things down and I let them go.

I did laugh, though, when we found a box with two sweaters still in good shape, which my tiny mom had worn.

My daughter said to me, “I can’t believe you kept these two sweaters.”

I had just moved them to the  to-keep box, thinking someday I would cut them up and put them in a quilt. When she caught me doing that I immediately pulled the sweater out and answered, “Yes, I know, here we can give it away or it can go in the garbage.”

She said, “No, this is an awesome sweater and I remember Grandma wearing it. I’m going to wear it.”

I must admit it brought a tear to my eye.

I am also a crafter and a repurpose person so I save things for those “I am going to make this someday” moments. My daughter gently reminded me how old some of the items were.

We packed and sorted and when we got done the basement was emptier. Wow, you could see the little dead bugs that had succumbed to the clutter in the basement, too,  although there were no bugs in the boxes. Now I need to get rid of the dead critters and clean.

Before my daughter left, she reminded me there was more she thought could go. I thought about it later and decided she was right,  so when my back is ship-shape I will visit my basement  and make another sweep.

It felt good to have space and I found items I did care about, and brought them up to display them where I could enjoy the beauty and the memories.

For me, the best memory of all was the day spent with my daughter, laughing and enjoying the memories our finds conjured up. Joy is not in the things we accumulate, but the time we spend sharing those memories with those we love.