Dad was such a packrat. He was like that long before the Alzheimer’s, but it got much worse once the disease progressed.
I just went through several grocery shopping bags full of Dad’s papers. Most were thrown under the bed, hanging out with the dust bunnies. Most of it was junk mail. There were dozens of cards and letters addressed to family members that were never sent. Lots of address labels that will never be used, and old bank statements.
But tucked deep into some of that junk mail were gems. Like this photo of Dad, as a teenager, with an inscription on the back: “To the sweetest Mum a Son could have. God bless you Mother. From your Loving Son.”
If I had not been very careful and deliberate, if I had rushed and not went through ever page in those bags, gems like this photo would have been lost forever.