I come from a family of packrats where everything is sacred and has value, unless it’s covered in excrement or on fire. My visits home inevitably include a forced funeral for an old cofffee maker or toaster that isn’t good enough for Goodwill, but according to my dad not good enough for the trash.
What happened to the contents of this apartment was a cardinal sin in my family.
I used to be one of them. But moving around so much during college and then abroad pretty much cured me. Still I tried to give away what I could and I surveyed eBay to see what if anything was worth salvaging. But really, who needs an egg cooker that’s 20 years old?
With a few exceptions, pretty much everything went. I like to think that the building manager had some local folks come by and collect some of the furniture and that maybe someone grabbed a knick knack or two on the way out the door. But realistically, most everything went into the dumpster.
Out with the old, in with the new.