From yellowing National Geographic magazines to that dusty Bowflex doubling as a clothing rack, one writer's three-weekend garage excavation with their parents revealed the harsh truth about what happens to a lifetime of "valuable" possessions.
When my parents asked me to help them declutter their garage last spring, I thought it would take an afternoon. Three weekends later, we were still sorting through decades of accumulated stuff, and I found myself wondering why they held onto things like a broken VCR from 1992 and enough phone books to build a small fort.
The experience was eye-opening. Not just because of the sheer volume of items, but because I realized my siblings and I would eventually face this mountain of possessions again. And honestly? Most of it would end up in a dumpster.
If you're a Boomer reading this, please don't take offense. This isn't about being wasteful or ungrateful. It's about recognizing that different generations value different things, and what seems essential to you might feel like a burden to your kids.
After helping not just my parents but several friends' parents downsize, I've noticed some patterns. Here are eight things that seem precious to Boomers but will likely meet their demise the moment the inheritance paperwork is signed.
1. Stacks of National Geographic magazines from the 1970s
Every Boomer garage I've entered has them. Yellow spines lined up like soldiers, chronicling decades of exploration and discovery. My dad insisted they were "valuable" and "collectible." A quick eBay search proved otherwise.
Here's the thing: your kids can access every single National Geographic article ever written with a few taps on their phone. Those magazines that educated and inspired you? They're taking up space that your adult children desperately need for their own lives.
Sure, there's something romantic about flipping through physical pages and stumbling upon an article about the Amazon rainforest from 1983. But romance doesn't pay for storage units or justify keeping boxes of magazines that haven't been opened since the Clinton administration.
2. Exercise equipment that became expensive clothing racks
The Bowflex. The NordicTrack. That ab roller you bought after watching an infomercial at 2 AM. We've all been there, convinced that this time would be different. This time, we'd stick to the workout routine.
Your kids already have gym memberships or Pelotons or YouTube fitness channels. They don't need your dusty equipment that requires a manual (also stored somewhere in the garage) to figure out how to use. What seems like passing on a valuable piece of equipment feels more like inheriting someone else's abandoned New Year's resolution.
3. Boxes of cables for devices that no longer exist
Remember when you needed a different cable for every device? Your kids don't. They've grown up in a world where everything either uses USB-C or connects wirelessly.
That box of tangled cords you're keeping "just in case"? Your kids will take one look at those parallel printer cables, VGA cords, and proprietary chargers for phones that haven't existed since 2005 and toss them without a second thought. They live in the cloud. They don't even know what a parallel port is.
4. Collections that were supposed to fund retirement
Beanie Babies. Franklin Mint plates. Those Star Wars figures you kept in their original packaging. You were told they'd be worth something someday. That someday came and went, and now they're worth approximately what you paid for them, adjusted for inflation.
When I helped my parents clean out their garage, we found three boxes of "collectible" plates featuring scenes from Gone with the Wind. My mom was convinced they were valuable. They weren't. Your kids know this because they can check current market values instantly. What you see as an investment, they see as clutter that requires careful wrapping and special storage.
5. Encyclopedias and reference books
The complete World Book Encyclopedia set from 1987 might have cost you a fortune and represented the sum of human knowledge at the time. Your kids have Wikipedia, Google, and ChatGPT. They can access more information on their phone while sitting on the toilet than those encyclopedias could ever contain.
Physical reference books feel antiquated to a generation that updates their knowledge in real-time. Holding onto them thinking they'll be useful during a power outage? Your kids have portable chargers and data plans. Those encyclopedias are headed straight for recycling.
6. Old paint cans and half-empty chemical bottles
You matched that paint color perfectly in 1994 and kept the can for touch-ups. There are seventeen similar cans, each with an inch of separated, crusty paint at the bottom. Add to that the collection of fertilizers, pesticides, and mysterious chemicals that might or might not still be legal.
Your environmentally conscious kids will need to pay for proper hazardous waste disposal for most of this stuff. What you kept for practicality becomes their expensive problem. They're not touching up walls in colors like "Desert Mauve" or using pesticides that were banned during the Obama administration.
7. File cabinets full of paper records
Tax returns from 1982. Warranty cards for appliances that died during the Bush administration (the first one). Instruction manuals for every electronic device you've ever owned, including that bread maker you used twice.
Your kids scan important documents and store them digitally. They pay bills online and receive statements via email. That four-drawer file cabinet full of papers you've meticulously organized? They'll keep documents from the last seven years for tax purposes and shred the rest. The cabinet itself will be sold on Facebook Marketplace for $20.
8. Camping gear from that phase when you thought you loved camping
The tent that takes three hours and an engineering degree to set up. The Coleman stove that runs on white gas. The sleeping bags rated for Arctic expeditions that you used twice in temperate campgrounds with full bathroom facilities.
Modern camping gear weighs a fraction of what yours does and sets up in minutes. Your kids, if they camp at all, have lightweight, high-tech equipment or they're glamping in Airbnbs. That canvas tent that smells like mildew and disappointment? It's dumpster-bound.
The bottom line
Writing this made me think about my own garage and what I'm holding onto. After leaving my corporate job to pursue writing, I've become more intentional about what I keep. Maybe it was seeing my parents' garage, or maybe it was realizing how much mental space physical clutter occupies.
The truth is, our kids don't want our stuff. They want our stories, our recipes, our values, and maybe a few photographs. But the physical objects we've assigned meaning to? Most of them are just things to them.
So here's my challenge: look at your garage not through your eyes, but through your kids' eyes. Keep what truly matters, digitize what you can, and let go of the rest. Your children will thank you, even if they never say it out loud.
Because the best inheritance you can leave isn't a garage full of things they'll have to sort through while grieving. It's the gift of not having to rent a dumpster the week after your funeral.
