I grew up not wanting to throw ANYTHING. It's a weird thing. I remember as a kid having drawers full of scraps of paper, tiny nubs of pencils, broken crayons, knickknacks, magazine clippings, etc. Bunch of stuff that should have been tossed, but I always figured, "there's still life left, I'll use it eventually."
The problem with that mentality is it stayed with me through much of my life. I kept dang near everything. Take toys, for instance. I remember thinking, "someday I'm going to be glad I kept this toy because my kid will play with it."
I guess that stemmed from my own experience playing with the few, cool old toys my dad managed to save from his childhood.
What I never considered was that I'd get my dad's toys, PLUS the toys I saved of my own, PLUS my kids would get their own toys. Know what that equals?? A FREAKING SHIT PILE OF TOYS, most of which never are played with.
Everything hit me in the past year. Grandma moved to a nursing home two years ago. Grandpa died. My folks bought their place. We had to go through all their stuff. Now my folks just moved there with all their own stuff. Even after throwing, selling, donating, sorting, etc. they don't have enough room. They have two storage sheds rented, plus a pole barn FULL of the amalgamation of whatever is left of grandma and grandpa's stuff, along with everything they moved up from the cities.
It really makes you stop and think. We aren't doing the next generation any favors by keeping/hording things. You're only deferring the agonizing task of deciding what to keep/throw/donate to the next person. I don't want to do that to my kids or grandkids. I'd like to whittle my personal belongings down to a very manageable level, so if we ever do move again or I pass away suddenly, they're not burdened by going through all the things I didn't have the courage or motivation to get rid of when I had the chance.