I opened the door to the attic. Since Grandma wasn’t able to go up those steps anymore, they made a convenient, but odd, storage spot.

“Why do old people keep hordes of stuff?!” I yelled to Mom in the other room.

She came around the corner carrying a box of hats and ties. “Because they lived through the Great Depression, dear. They had nothing! Now they never want to be without.”

I turned to face the cluttered stairs. Stacks of paper plates, cups, tissues, garbage bags, gift wrap; I sighed. This was going to take awhile.

I began removing the useful items. In one box I found her stapler, paperclips, and stacks of unopened post-it notes. I remember grandma’s purse full of them! She always wrote things down throughout the week and kept the notes in her purse for her Friday excursion to the city. I on the other hand, was a very disorganized person.

Suddenly I realized this was her way of solving that problem. I never thought I had anything in common with her, but now I think it was because we were so alike.