Here’s this week’s Smartmom from the Brooklyn Paper, of course.

Smartmom and Hepcat spent a weekend afternoon going through 13 years of basement storage deciding what to keep and what to throw away.

A rubbish hauler was booked to arrive first thing that Monday. They’d put this off long enough. It was time.

Hepcat, who would rather have a colonoscopy than go through his beloved storage, did at least get in on the act. Something compelled him to do it this time.

Perhaps it was the nagging — or the threat of divorce and dismemberment if he didn’t comply.

Or maybe it was the fires in Southern California where 1,500 homes were destroyed.

That tragedy got Smartmom thinking about the meaning of things. It forced her to contemplate what she would take with her if her apartment was burning and she had a split second to decide.

She wondered if she’d grab the decoupage vase that Teen Spirit had made out of a bottle of wine for Valentine’s Day when he was in third grade.

Or would she grab the heart-shaped bowl that says “Mom” that the Oh So Feisty One painted at one of those paint your own pottery places?

Smartmom knew she’d grab her computer, where most of her writing lives. Much of it is backed up, but just in case …

What about the baby books and her wedding album?

It’s awful to think about. And yet, in the end she knew that she’d just make sure that everyone got out safely and leave it at that.

Though she would grab that computer. Some things are just too vital to her. Smartmom would definitely leave behind her collection of more than 100 vintage globes, the Wedgwood china that belonged to Hepcat’s grandmother, and their wedding silver, which she adores.

There wouldn’t be time. And in the end, things are replaceable.

Eleanor Traubman, a professional organizer whose Brooklyn company is called Inspired Organizing, spoke to Smartmom about this recently. She often asks her clients, “Is it possible to hold onto a memory without holding onto the physical reminder?”

Sometimes the answer is yes. Other times, it is a resounding no. But Traubman believes that it is possible to select a few meaningful things as reminders without keeping everything.
Naomi Village: In the heart of the Poconos

Miraculously, Smartmom and Hepcat were able to substantially reduce their basement storage with a minimum of fighting and biting. If those years of couple’s therapy has taught them anything it is to stay out of each other’s way.

That’s right, Smartmom kept a healthy distance as Hepcat dutifully went through box after box.

She even stopped herself from saying, “Don’t you want to get rid of that 20-volume set of the Handyman’s Encyclopedia that you picked up at a library sale on our honeymoon that is now slightly damp and mildewed?”

She prevented herself from saying, “Do you really need to keep 12 computer monitors that don’t work anymore?”

She resisted the urge to say, “Can’t we trash those boxes of Computer Shopper magazines from the late 1980s” (sure, they’re historic but … ).

For Smartmom, it was easier to part with the mildewed past. Truth be told, a dank, occasionally flooded, basement is no place to keep children’s clothing and toys anyway.

It’s downright disgusting.

Smartmom did uncover some treasures. She even got teary when she found the yellow Little Tykes car that brought Teen Spirit countless hours of joy rolling up and down their long hallway when he was 3.

There was OSFO’s green tricycle and boxes of toys that they couldn’t even sell at their stoop sale last summer.

For Smartmom, it felt good to downsize. Maybe her recent success at Weight Watchers (16 pounds and counting) has taught her that less is more. It feels good to travel light.

Hepcat doesn’t share that belief. He is buffeted by the past. It makes him feel safe and secure. His reverence for things is something that Smartmom both adores and abhors about him.

While she is moved by his sentimental ways, she is also overwhelmed by the storage problems that such ways present.

There aren’t enough closets, bookcases and storage rooms to contain all that we are. That’s why it’s important to find other ways to hold onto the past and recognize that things only tell part of the story.

The next morning, it took five guys from Mr. Rubbish less than a half-hour to put everything in the garbage compactor.

When the job was done, Smartmom felt relieved. She knew she didn’t need all that stuff they’d been clinging to. What matters in life are people and experiences. Sure it’s nice to have mementos — but only as long as you’ve got the square footage.

For now, Smartmom cherishes Teen Spirit’s decoupage vase and the heart-shaped bowl that OSFO made.

And her computer.

That’s where she records her memories. And they don’t take up much space anyway.