In our family, Mother’s Day is a cherished occasion. Each year, one sibling takes on the responsibility of hosting the entire clan. This year, I was fortunate enough to take the reins. Just three days before our big dinner, I felt a surge of accomplishment—I was actually on track! The invitations were sent, the menu was set, and the house was almost spotless.
Typically, I settle for a somewhat tidy home. However, since we were chosen as the official gathering place for both sides of the family, I felt compelled to go the extra mile. I tackled the obvious cleaning tasks first, but then decided to confront the one area in the house that always nagged at me: our junk drawer.
I suspect even the most organized families have one—a drawer overflowing with old phone numbers, warranties for appliances long gone, and recipes hastily scribbled on napkins, all just waiting for the perfect moment to be sorted. Our junk drawer, located in the kitchen next to the phone, had grown so full that when I tried to squeeze in a pencil, it popped back out like a jack-in-the-box. Clearly, it was time to clean up this mess, and I knew it was a job meant for me—much like dust gathering under the fridge.
After breakfast, I scheduled some time to tackle the drawer, ensuring the kids were out of the house. Their absence was essential; they always insisted on saving every little scrap for some grand project they claimed was just around the corner. No mother should have to face a bulging drawer and pleading children at the same time.
Armed with a hefty garbage bag, I was determined to be ruthless. If I couldn’t recall the name associated with a phone number, I wouldn’t waste time dialing. Any warranty older than my marriage certificate would be deemed unnecessary. This time, I was committed to clearing out the drawer.
As I sifted through a mountain of 3×5 cards detailing cake ingredients, mismatched thank-you cards, and an assortment of springs and bolts from who-knows-what, I hit my first emotional roadblock—a drawing of “Mommy” created by my 5-year-old. The date on the back and the delightful spelling errors brought back memories of the day I received it, and I couldn’t part with it. I lovingly folded it and returned it to the drawer.
Next, while discarding a handful of broken crayons, I stumbled upon a sealed envelope that rattled when I picked it up. Intrigued, I shook it again—who knew envelopes could make noise? After peeling off the layers of yellowing tape, I watched in sorrow as sand and tiny pebbles spilled onto the floor. This was my second grader’s collection of memories from our beach trip; she had insisted on bringing home bits of the ocean and had completely forgotten about the envelope tucked away in her drawing case. I recalled her beaming face as she emptied her sandals and felt compelled to keep it.
With a broom in hand, I swept the sand and stones back into the envelope and returned it to the drawer. From there, it was a downhill journey filled with small hearts from Valentine’s Day, rainbow drawings, and sweet notes adorned with “I love you.” I found myself reminiscing about each item, causing my garbage bag to stagnate in size.
Hours passed as I read and reread each paper, and I couldn’t help but reflect on how quickly children grow. Before long, all we have left are misspelled letters and the warmth they bring to our hearts.
As I neared the end of my decluttering journey, I realized that the drawer didn’t need emptying; it needed a new identity. Picking up a broken red crayon, I wrote “TREASURES” on a piece of paper and taped it to the drawer. To me, it was evident that the contents were far from junk—they were beautiful reminders of the children who make Mother’s Day a lasting celebration.
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In summary, what may initially appear as clutter can actually hold cherished memories and meaningful treasures. By shifting our perspective, we can transform our junk drawers into a celebration of the little moments that matter most.