My Dad’s Sacred Hoardings

 My Dad’s Sacred Hoardings

By Camille Hilary Toledo

https://hoarders911.com/how-to-help-a-hoarder-move-into-a-new-home/

You hold onto things a lot. You hoard them into this one messy pile, saying you’ll use them or you’ll need them one day even though you probably never will.

You get mad when we buy things for you and you have a certain attachment on this shirt with a lot of holes. You don’t even let go of that shoe with non-functional soles.

 

You still keep all the receipts as time is fading them, stored old TVs that were not even working anymore, and collected ten other pieces of furniture that make our house look like a disjointed mess.

 

Even with a lot of scolding and warning and arguing, you’d still toast and eat that bread after picking off the molds from it.

 

You see, I wanted to throw things away. I want the place to be aesthetically pleasing. I want to live a minimalist life. But how could we? You hold onto things a lot!

 

Like an ant preparing for a rainy day that might not even come. But just in case I’ll need them for a project or in case my sister looks for one, you save it. You save it because you don’t want us to buy a new one and you would like to provide for us.

 

As long as it’s functioning, who needs a new shirt? Who do we need to impress? Because for you, instead of getting this dress, you’ll save the money. You’ll never buy yourself new decent clothing, but you’ll willingly buy us our needs.

 

The papers, the pictures, the songs that take you back in time; even the TVs or old appliances that saved us one time. When we didn’t have any money left, you sold them as junk. So you keep it in a tiny corner just in case those rainy days do come.

 

You grew up seeing others’ much more impoverished lives, so how could you even dare throw food away? You’ve consumed them quite often, that’s why your stomach does not even react anymore. You still eat those leftovers when your children do not want them anymore. After all, you are a father.

 

“You hold onto things a lot!”—I said this out of annoyance.

Then frustration,

Then empathy,

Then guilt,

Then shame,

Then appreciation.

Wow. You hold onto things a lot.

 

So one day, when I go through your clothes and things, I pray to see a life well-lived—that you never stayed in your default comfort of self-sacrifice and selflessness that you’ve mastered over the years.

 

After all, I am your daughter.