You look in your closet, and what do you see? Those old sweatshirts you took from your best friend four years ago and never gave back—the one with a soup stain right above the navel, arm sleeves stretched way past your wrists, and elastic almost nonexistent.

You look in that one drawer—you know, the junk drawer on the top left of the row. There will always be the three old batteries rolling around in back, a few stray stamps, maybe a tennis ball. But then there are the things that catch your eye. Bark back when mom mentions maybe it’s time to part with a few things. There’s your favorite deck of playing cards for solitaire with grandma at the cabin, spoons with the siblings, and drinking games on the dorm floor.

You lift the unfolded sheet that hangs off your bed, and what do you find? Maybe an old shoe box filled with trading cards, graduation cards, and birthday cards. Don’t forget the string of participation ribbons that make you smile. Mom asks, “When was the last time you dusted in here?” But do the cast resin, bronze looking trophies on your bookshelf really need dusting? Nope.

There’s the old photo albums from when you (or mom) went through that scrapbooking phase. The pictures framed in multi-colored, plaid, and textured patterns. You know, with the scissors with the beveled edges. You and the friends have braces and the pictures remind you of those weird Friday night mixers at the local church, the first time you wore makeup, or worked up the courage to talk to that girl. The pages turning faster and faster, too hard to to take your eyes off of like awkward PDA you can’t stop observing out of your peripherals no matter how hard you try.

How about the letters from friends and family? Well wishes before the state championship game from your fellow teammates that you read on the bus ride there, and letters to communicate with the best friend that goes to college three states away because letters are cooler than texts. The letter from the girlfriend back home because you’re relationship is old fashiony and such, all of them stuffed into a bloated manila folder or your old algebra binder with ROOM 210 written across the front.

But let’s get down to it. We can’t part with these things, can we? Can we bag up our objective memories and toss them to the curb? Do we even have to? Maybe if tunneling through your bedroom to reach the light switch is a thing, you may have to do some sifting and parting with your overabundance of mementos. But otherwise, I say keep them! Keep the things that make you smile that may clutter the bottom of the closet. It’s a trip down memory lane when we see these objects or touch them, and maybe they even have a certain smell. Why part with those that allow us to make connections, to relive parts of our past for only that moment? Why not slowly add to the collection? Keep the necessary, and part with the non-sentimental. Reminisce, and use those memories to launch you forward, urging you to make more memories and collect more of what sparks that bright light inside you. Stash, share, and add to the collections. Hell, keep it all, and relive!