life in an old growth forest: reflections on aging: Dollars, scraps and what we leave behind

Do we pour our savings into a retirement community? Or do we hold on to our money to pass on to our kids and grandkids? That’s a real question for those deciding whether or not to move into a continuing-care retirement community such as the one we now live in. It was certainly a choice we wrestled with.

Not that any financial heritage we pass along to our loved ones would be substantial, given the life-style choices we made. But, still, we’d like to hand something of practical value down to the kids.

We feel the effects of our decision to move here every month when we get the statement from our bank. The increase in the community’s monthly fees this year hasn’t helped. Even though retired, we find it necessary to budget our spending and continue to search for ways to cut down. I guess that makes us like most other people in our nation today.

We remind ourselves of the benefits of being here, that the high fees today ensure continuing care in the future when we’ll probably need to be in assisted-living or perhaps the memory care wing. Even if we should one day run out of money, this community will still care for us.

But I grieve the lack of an inheritance to pass on.

Until I remember that I do have something of value to leave my kids as an inheritance.

My scrapbooks!

(The exclamation point indicates a blending of enthusiasm and sarcasm.)

I started scrapbooking when our kids were small, long before scrapbooking became an expensive national craze, a craze that has since died down. I needed a way to manage the growing collection of photos, childish artwork, and assorted memorabilia that threatened to overflow our storage space. And I wanted a way to hold on to the memories of those growing up years, a way to provide continuity and stability to our rather nomadic way of life between two countries.

So every fourth year when our family came home from Bolivia to Oregon, I’d sort through the stuff, make my choices, and artistically glue them into the Book. Then I’d throw everything else away without compunction (and without the kids knowing). It kept the clutter down.

And it made a wonderful contribution to capturing our family story. The kids loved the books, as did Hal and I. We named them “The Thomas Family Chronicles,” and the volumes grew over the years. When David brought his future wife Debby home to meet us, they sat together on the couch while David showed her the Chronicles, not telling her that this was the “test.” She passed.

The kids are grown, married, and now the grandkids are starting the marriage cycle. Life goes on. And so do the Chronicles. I keep them up; it’s a good place to display photos of the grandkids and chart all the changes.

I am slowing down, partly due to the high cost of maintaining a color printer. Partly because they take up room. Each year occupies less pages.

My question: although the kids loved these books growing up, will they actually want them taking space on their bookshelves someday? All 18 volumes? I’m not so sure about that.

But, really, why worry? When I’m gone it won’t be my problem.

I am sorry about the money though.

Some sample pages: