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What things of value have you unwittingly given away?


Garga
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In the first house we owned, it had lovely hardwood floors. But I was young (21) and didn't really understand the value of good hardwood and thought it made the house feel cold (visually, not literally) so I covered it with some cheap carpet. I had a friend who gasped out loud when I told him that I covered my hardwood with carpet because he couldn't imagine why anyone would do that. I thought he was being silly. But now that I'm 44 and in my 2nd home that has cheap carpet that I can't afford to replace with hardwood, I think back to the first house and marvel at how I disdained the hardwood. What was I thinking? I love hardwood flooring now.

 

I have a friend who grew up poor. When she got married, her grandmother gave her all her cast iron ware. Skillets and pots and whatever else--a bunch of it. In my friend's eyes, these were hideous cast offs and she was sick and tired of feeling poor and using people's old stuff. And it was heavy and ugly to boot. So, she gave it all away to Goodwill and went out and bought some new, but cheap, teflon stuff from Walmart. A few years later, she learned to her horror that old, aged cast iron is a treasure and that she had given away something precious from her grandmother.

 

What things did you think had no value until one day you realized they did? Double points for if you owned the item and gave it away only to kick yourself later for doing so. :)

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We sold a 80s VW Westfallia Van for under $5000 in the mid-nineties. It needed engine work and we sold it for a fair price at the tine. Now, the exact same van is worth $20,000 plus. It is one of the few vehicles to appreciate in value.

Edited by Tap
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Beanie Babies.  Oldest dd had ALL the Beanie Babies.  Her dad was a little obsessive about collecting them, keeping the tags on them, even though they were technically hers.  Used to drive me nuts.   About 7 years ago, she didn't want them anymore, I didn't want to hold on to them for the little guys so I donated them to the Salvation Army.  Three leaf size garbage bags full.  Including ones that are worth $$$ now.  

 

I'm kicking myself both because of the money, but also because both my younger kids love stuffies.  Especially small size stuffies.  Even now at 10 and 11, they still have a bunch.  They would have LOVED having those Beanie Babies.

 

She also had a ton of the original Pokemon cards.  They may still be in her dad's attic but she doesn't think so.

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I give away a lot, and try to mostly give away things that have value to others.  Sometimes it's usefulness, but mostly I try to give things that have a monetary value as well.  So it's not really unwitting, or unknown, but if it's not working for me at the time, I purge it.  

 

No regrets about most of it.  I gave away (on freecycle) an enormous set of Spode Christmas china, with glasses, and serving pieces, and just a ton of stuff.  Place settings for 12.   That probably had a fair amount of value, but I could not hand wash dishes any longer (hands were too painful at the time and I was diagnosed with MS, and fibro and MPS, and chronic fatigue - frankly, I didn't think I'd ever hand wash dishes again!), and storing it indefinitely seemed silly.  I picked the person to receive it carefully, I know she didn't sell it, but still uses it joyfully every year, and I'm thrilled to have given that gift to her family.  It makes me happy.  

 

I gave away all the old Fiestaware (1950s) around the same time, to a college girl who was collecting and reminded me of myself when I started my collection.  That felt good, and still does.

 

And we made a conscious decision to "use up" our Calphalon pots and pans - they were so heavy, I could not hold them, and could not hand wash them - so in the dishwasher they went until they could not be used safely any longer.  

 

It turned out that my MS diagnosis, and all the others that I lived with for so long were off.  I went through an agony of treatment with a special, special doc, and after about 5 more years of, honestly, living hell, I could hand wash dishes again, and live normally!  Yay!  I had a brief moment of feeling sad that I'd passed on the Spode, etc, but mostly I just concentrate on the happiness it's given that family, who never could have afforded it otherwise.  And, I enjoy the gift of the use of my hands, honestly, more than any dishes.  Hard to take that for granted now.

 

OP, I totally could see my former self not caring for hardwood floors and covering them with a "warmer" carpet, many years ago!  That made me laugh!

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Reading about that cast iron felt like a punch to my gut. :crying:

 

I know! My friend practically had tears in her eyes when she told me the story. I think she was slowly trying to get a new collection of cast iron, but it just isn't the same as having the inheritance of it from her grandmother.

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A desk that belonged to my great grandmother. It was too small and we sold it because I wanted something different. It would have been a great vanity now, but alas, it's gone. I also sold my piano when we moved out of state years ago. I really miss it. It wasn't a great piano and I'm glad we didn't have to move it again, but I want a piano now. 

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A desk that belonged to my great grandmother. It was too small and we sold it because I wanted something different. It would have been a great vanity now, but alas, it's gone. I also sold my piano when we moved out of state years ago. I really miss it. It wasn't a great piano and I'm glad we didn't have to move it again, but I want a piano now.

I'm often tempted to give mine away since I only play a few times a year. It is big and my house is small and the space could be used for so many other useful things. But if I give it away, I know I'll never replace it.

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I try to operate with the idea that things are only worth the value that I place on them.  So, if I didn't want something, then to me it is without value.  Just because someone else would pay a lot of it doesn't  mean that it then becomes 'valuable".  At least that is what I tell myself when I get rid of stuff that 'might some day be worth something' lol.  So far I've had no regrets.

 

 

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When I was pregnant with my second, I had periods of forgetfulness and did some silly things. The one that has pained me for years involves a piggy bank. It wasn't a pig, though. It was an old McDonald's bank that was issued as a special prize in the 1970's. I received one as a child and kept it in my closet for years. It was in beautiful condition. I gave it to my DD to use and we took it to the bank every so often to deposit the change into her saving account. The bank usually held about $8-10. We took it to the bank when I was about 8 months pregnant and walked off without it. I remembered the piggy bank about two weeks later and went to the bank to see if they still had it. We had banked there for over 5 years and I figured they would have kept it for me. They had thrown it away a few days before. I was quite angry. They knew who I was. Even if they didn't they had the bank deposit slip from the transaction and could have easily looked up my contact information.

 

The bank was worth over $80 at the time. I can only imagine what it would be worth today, 20 years later. 

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I was going to say nothing but then I remembered. I had just given up on Don Quixote forever and decluttered it from my bookshelf when I read well educated mind. But I can replace it very cheaply.

 

To me stuff is worth what it's worth to me. Not what it's market value is.

 

I guess the other thing is time. I've given away too much of my time to sorting and storing stuff.

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Ten or eleven years ago, when my four kids were itty bitty, my parents were getting ready to move. Mom had early Alzheimer's and didn't really want to move and wasn't much help. She wasn't cooking any more, so my sister and I divided up her cookbooks, kept those that we thought we would use and put the rest in the giveaway pile. Then Dad brought out several big recipe boxes stuffed so full of handwritten recipe cards and clippings that the lids couldn't close. They weren't the standard, small boxes, but very large collections of recipes. One was my mom's big yellow box; one was my grandmother's; and one was my great-aunt's.

 

I thought about how frazzled I was just trying to get simple, basic meals on the table for my husband and four little kids, and I looked at those boxes, and I thought, "I will never sort through those giant boxes." And, sentimental though I am, I said I didn't want them. My sister didn't take them, either. I told my dad that someone in a thrift shop would be thrilled to have them.

 

Several years later, I began to regret it. Occasionally my sister would call to ask if I had one of Mom's recipes, or I would call her with a similar question. I wanted to just reach back into the past and change that moment. My sister felt the same regret.

 

Last year at Christmas, we were commiserating with each other over our shared recipe loss. I turned and said to my dad, "Are you sure you got rid of those? Could they be stashed away in your storage area somewhere? Because I'd love to have them back."

 

My brother's wife overheard me talking. "Are they great big recipe boxes? We found some awhile ago, but I didn't know where they came from. We have them in the trunk of our car right now. One of them is yellow."

 

And two minutes later, my sister and I had the boxes in front of us and piles of handwritten recipe cards from several generations spread across the table. It was one of the most amazing Christmas "gifts" I've ever been given.

 

 

 

 

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Similar to the recipes story...

 

When I was a kid we had a set of My Bookhouse books from a thrift store.  I was the only one who ever read them.  When my grandmother died, it turned out that she had had an older set and somehow my mom ended up with both of them.  She wouldn't give either one to me, even though I was the only one who used them.

 

One day my husband took a lot of junk to the dump, and saw a box of old books next to where he parked.  He saw that they were numbered and went through them, having decided that he would bring them home only if the set was complete.  It was, and he did, and it was the same edition of My Bookhouse that I grew up with!  I think I actually cried when he brought them in.  He had no idea how much they would mean to me.  I used them with DD when she was little--they are a great intro to Western Civ for sure.

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I have given away and/or sold curricula that I later wish I hadn't, but that stuff is easily replaceable.

 

I do wish my mom and I had never asked a relative to store some things at their house.  When I left my ex, my mom's house didn't have room for my son's bedroom furniture, and I was allowed to store it in my relative's garage.  Maybe 6 months later, I went over to house/puppy sit for a couple of nights, where I got to see my crib rails being used as puppy barricades... complete with puppy gnaw marks everywhere.  :crying:  (The panels of my play yard, too, but that was cheap and non-sentimental compared to my crib!)

 

My mom had stored less sentimental items there when she moved out of state. I don't particularly care about the stuff, but the very fact that most of it was ruined and/or lost bothers me a lot, just on principle.  It's not a generous offer when you destroy everything!
Not that long ago (but a good 15 years later,) they mentioned they had come across a certain something and decided to give it to one of their adult kids.  To my face, without offering it to me.  I've since decided that I wouldn't really want it, but I still feel hurt.  They did have one large thing that I would love to have today, but their decision to offload it years ago was completely reasonable at the time.

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Ten or eleven years ago, when my four kids were itty bitty, my parents were getting ready to move. Mom had early Alzheimer's and didn't really want to move and wasn't much help. She wasn't cooking any more, so my sister and I divided up her cookbooks, kept those that we thought we would use and put the rest in the giveaway pile. Then Dad brought out several big recipe boxes stuffed so full of handwritten recipe cards and clippings that the lids couldn't close. They weren't the standard, small boxes, but very large collections of recipes. One was my mom's big yellow box; one was my grandmother's; and one was my great-aunt's.

 

I thought about how frazzled I was just trying to get simple, basic meals on the table for my husband and four little kids, and I looked at those boxes, and I thought, "I will never sort through those giant boxes." And, sentimental though I am, I said I didn't want them. My sister didn't take them, either. I told my dad that someone in a thrift shop would be thrilled to have them.

 

Several years later, I began to regret it. Occasionally my sister would call to ask if I had one of Mom's recipes, or I would call her with a similar question. I wanted to just reach back into the past and change that moment. My sister felt the same regret.

 

Last year at Christmas, we were commiserating with each other over our shared recipe loss. I turned and said to my dad, "Are you sure you got rid of those? Could they be stashed away in your storage area somewhere? Because I'd love to have them back."

 

My brother's wife overheard me talking. "Are they great big recipe boxes? We found some awhile ago, but I didn't know where they came from. We have them in the trunk of our car right now. One of them is yellow."

 

And two minutes later, my sister and I had the boxes in front of us and piles of handwritten recipe cards from several generations spread across the table. It was one of the most amazing Christmas "gifts" I've ever been given.

This made my eyes leak. What a gift!

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When I married for the 2nd time, my grandmother gave me a KitchenAid stand mixer. I held onto it but never used it. I ended up donating it to Good Will. Years later I was talking to my mom about wanting a new stand mixer and she freaked out asking what happened to the KitchenAid. When she explained how expensive those were, I felt so stupid and didn't want her to know I had gotten rid of it. I laughed it off and told her it must be in one of the boxes in our attic.

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Similar to another poster upthread, I once spent a day sorting through all the bins and boxes of boy clothes, and gave away the wrong bags.  I was bummed because those bags were really, truly needed by one of my boys.

 

 About a week later, two different  people passed on two other bags to us--with just the sizes I needed. :)

Edited by Zoo Keeper
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Ten or eleven years ago, when my four kids were itty bitty, my parents were getting ready to move. Mom had early Alzheimer's and didn't really want to move and wasn't much help. She wasn't cooking any more, so my sister and I divided up her cookbooks, kept those that we thought we would use and put the rest in the giveaway pile. Then Dad brought out several big recipe boxes stuffed so full of handwritten recipe cards and clippings that the lids couldn't close. They weren't the standard, small boxes, but very large collections of recipes. One was my mom's big yellow box; one was my grandmother's; and one was my great-aunt's.

 

I thought about how frazzled I was just trying to get simple, basic meals on the table for my husband and four little kids, and I looked at those boxes, and I thought, "I will never sort through those giant boxes." And, sentimental though I am, I said I didn't want them. My sister didn't take them, either. I told my dad that someone in a thrift shop would be thrilled to have them.

 

Several years later, I began to regret it. Occasionally my sister would call to ask if I had one of Mom's recipes, or I would call her with a similar question. I wanted to just reach back into the past and change that moment. My sister felt the same regret.

 

Last year at Christmas, we were commiserating with each other over our shared recipe loss. I turned and said to my dad, "Are you sure you got rid of those? Could they be stashed away in your storage area somewhere? Because I'd love to have them back."

 

My brother's wife overheard me talking. "Are they great big recipe boxes? We found some awhile ago, but I didn't know where they came from. We have them in the trunk of our car right now. One of them is yellow."

 

And two minutes later, my sister and I had the boxes in front of us and piles of handwritten recipe cards from several generations spread across the table. It was one of the most amazing Christmas "gifts" I've ever been given.

 

 

WOW!  What a beautiful story!!!

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I know! My friend practically had tears in her eyes when she told me the story. I think she was slowly trying to get a new collection of cast iron, but it just isn't the same as having the inheritance of it from her grandmother.

 

I, too, got rid of a ton of cast iron I was hand-me-down'ed from an elderly friend.  It was too heavy and awkward to use. I kept a cast iron skillet for some reason and when I married my husband, he was THRILLED> We have two now.

 

But I must say I still don't regret giving the  others away because it was too heavy for me to use and I alreayd have a problem with storing too much stuff not being actively used.

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Monetary value - I gave away my mother's 3-strand pearl necklace when I was 20.  She had given it to me along with some costume jewelry of her mother's, and I didn't realize the pearls were real until Mom asked about it.  She was pretty upset with me at the time.  The girl I gave it to loved the necklace, so I'm sure she continued to wear it.  Even if I had kept the pearls, I wouldn't have worn them often.

 

Sentimental value - Minn of the Mississippi.  My younger dc weren't interested in it, and I didn't realize my oldest loved it.  I sold it online to another homeschooler.  

 

 

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Another 'almost' story.

Hoarders, don't read this--you will be confirmed in your tendencies.

 

You know that rule about boxes--if you don't need anything in it for a year, just toss it without even opening it?

We moved (years ago) and my husband lost track of his family's most historic photograph.  It was of his mother's (now 92 yo) grandfather's homestead in northern WI.  The family was Danish and had brought over a framed piece of Danish embroidery which was on the wall in this picture--very old already then when the picture was taken.

 

He figured it was gone forever.

 

After a year I realized that a few of the boxes in the garage were in 'throw this away without looking at it' age.  I almost did it, but then quickly went through them,  and you guessed, found the picture.  No idea how it ended up in this box.  Moral:  Never throw away anything without looking at it.  Sorry.

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