I just went back to this feeling this morning. My husband brought up gold panning and I remembered I had some gold flakes from childhood, a very fond memory of mine. Then I remembered it was among the items stolen out of my garage to day before I gave birth to my kid. We had just moved so everything was in boxes and easy to transport. Including my camera. I only have one photo of the day my kid was born, thanks to a kind nurse.
Some dude bought my entire storage unit for about $20. They gave him my contact info so he could pass off the un-sellable bits like:
my degree from college
my passport, birth certificate
black and white photo albums I inherited
a stack of notebooks, completely full of my handwritten journal entries, dating back to 2000 when I started my journal. In a single stack they’d be about 4-5 feet tall
my baby clothes
a little red plastic “3” filled with photos from my third birthday
a million little souvenirs from my travels
a first place ribbon from a cross country race
I don’t know if he dumped it in a dumpster, or maybe there’s some weird intensely_human museum out in the desert, or he was able to sell that shit, or what.
I never understand people who buy the contents of storage units. Profiting off the misfortune of others is just horrible. I'd love to fill a bunch of boxes with raw sewage or something and stop making payments on a unit....