Item(s) You Regret Having Gotten Rid Of?

[randooch]

Call it "seller's remorse" or "donator's dolor" . . .

Just curious. The anticipation of regret keeps me from parting with a few items, yet that hesitation makes me feel silly and somewhat materialistic.

I have an 1883 wall clock that my parents gave me 20 years ago that has no place in my home, the chime of which, honestly, makes me melancholy. Why keep it?

Please share your tales, regrets, misgivings, vacillations, et cetera, as they relate to cherished (or not) items.

 

[V.C. Brunswick]

I'm not a musician but several years ago I paid fifty cents at a yard sale for a book on how to make your own electric guitar which I subsequently sold. The book was so well done that today I wish I had kept it.

 

[DNO]

Over the years I've collected all sorts of stuff. When my interest would shift to a new area, I'd divest myself of one collection and start another but there are some things that I really wish I had kept. Among them: an 1809 French Cuirassier sword; a US Civil War Starr cavalry carbine; a Civil War vintage medical instrument set; a Waterloo medal to the 95th Rifles; a Military Cross and campaign medals to a Lieutenant in the Tank Corps.

There's more but this is too painful. I still have some interesting stuff....just none of the above.

 

[LizzieMaine]

My grandmother sold my grandfather's entire coin collection to a scrap silver dealer in 1980. I've been grieving over that ever since.

When I was a teenager, I had a little icebox in my room -- not a big one, it held maybe fifteen pounds of ice, but it kept my personal supply of food cold. When I moved out, I left it behind, and my mother has it in her kitchen to this day as a storage cabinet. I want it back -- it'd be very handy on the porch -- but she says I abandoned it and ain't that just too too bad.

 

[BigFitz]

Over the years I've collected all sorts of stuff. When my interest would shift to a new area, I'd divest myself of one collection and start another but there are some things that I really wish I had kept. Among them: an 1809 French Cuirassier sword; a US Civil War Starr cavalry carbine; a Civil War vintage medical instrument set; a Waterloo medal to the 95th Rifles; a Military Cross and campaign medals to a Lieutenant in the Tank Corps.

There's more but this is too painful. I still have some interesting stuff....just none of the above.

Have you read the "Sharpe" series by Bernard Cornwell? Great stuff!

Being a fan of the "Dirty Harry" movies, I always wanted a S&W 44 magnum. About 6 years ago I finally found a model 29 that was made in 1968 so it was actually made before the hype of the movie had started. Well, I just sold it a month ago to help finance a family vacation to Kitty Hawk, NC. I slightly regret that but at least I sold it for $275 more than I paid for it.

 

[Peregrine]

When I was little (about 8 or 9) I took my Dad's WW2 campaign medals to school for a "show and tell" session. Afterwards, I swapped them with another boy for marbles.

Not so much regret, as deep shame. Dad didn't give me a hard time about it, but it all came flooding back to me last year when I finally managed to get hold of his service record...the medals weren't engraved with his name, so I could (and will) replace them, but they won't be his medals. Sorry, Dad.

With the boot on the other foot, my other half and I are avid collectors of 20th Century "stuff", much of it named to an individual, or otherwise highly personal in nature. I can't help wondering, whenever I handle such an item, how it came to be on the open market. I will always treat such things with respect, and when I'm gone I'll make damn sure that they are handed on to someone who will do likewise, but it always makes me a little sad to think that no-one in the family cared enough to hang on to them. One such item is a brass vase, engraved to the memory of a WW1 British soldier; we tracked down his grave to a cemetery in Rouen, and went there a couple of years ago with the intention of photographing the vase next to his grave. Unfortunately, we arrived half an hour after the cemetery had been closed and locked for the evening, and so far haven't had the chance to return. But we will. Captain Albert Claude Dennis, someone still remembers your sacrifice.

 

[Amy Jeanne]

I had a bunch of original Clara Bow lobby pictures. I'm not 100% sure of the names of them -- the still photos from movies that have a quote on them? Not lobby cards (???) Like these:

Anyway, I was unemployed and needed money so I sold them on ebay many years ago. I had several from lots of her "lost" films including Rough House Rosie -- which I made more money on than I expected. Still -- the money went to something as useless as bills (lol) and I have no cute photos. So I have nothing -- lol. Many regrets.

 

[Miss Golightly]

My brother threw out pretty much all my childhood toys a couple of months ago - they were up in my Mum's attic - eating no hay - then she decided to have the attic re-insulated so everything had to come out of the attic and was put in the garage. I really should have taken some of the good toys with me (a Holly Hobby cookery set in perfect condition is what peeves me the most - my little girl would have loved it) but I left them in the garage thinking they would be fine - but my brother had other ideas and threw the majority of my toys out. To say I was livid was an understatement - I literally couldn't talk to him for a couple of weeks as I was so mad. I can only hope that someone took them from the skip and took them home to their own little girl to play with and that they didn't end up in a landfill. To think that maybe some other child is enjoying them gives me some solace.....

 

[vitanola]

When I was little (about 8 or 9) I took my Dad's WW2 campaign medals to school for a "show and tell" session. Afterwards, I swapped them with another boy for marbles.

Not so much regret, as deep shame. Dad didn't give me a hard time about it, but it all came flooding back to me last year when I finally managed to get hold of his service record...the medals weren't engraved with his name, so I could (and will) replace them, but they won't be his medals. Sorry, Dad.

With the boot on the other foot, my other half and I are avid collectors of 20th Century "stuff", much of it named to an individual, or otherwise highly personal in nature. I can't help wondering, whenever I handle such an item, how it came to be on the open market. I will always treat such things with respect, and when I'm gone I'll make damn sure that they are handed on to someone who will do likewise, but it always makes me a little sad to think that no-one in the family cared enough to hang on to them. One such item is a brass vase, engraved to the memory of a WW1 British soldier; we tracked down his grave to a cemetery in Rouen, and went there a couple of years ago with the intention of photographing the vase next to his grave. Unfortunately, we arrived half an hour after the cemetery had been closed and locked for the evening, and so far haven't had the chance to return. But we will. Captain Albert Claude Dennis, someone still remembers your sacrifice.

I noticed this some time ago, when I was looking for a nice old 48 star flag to hang at a house that I'm restoring. The common 3' x 5' printed cotton flags are relatively expensive when in unused condition, but old flags of really nice quality (sewn flags with embroidered stars) are pretty inexpensive, only in the odd 4' x 8' or 5' x 9 1/2' sizes.

How very sad!

 

[Shangas]

My father and I both have incidents like that...um... My dad moreso than I.

1. My grandpa's pocket-knife. As a child, I remembered it vividly. It was rusty, broken, older than dust and it was my grandmother's constant aid. She would never let me touch it. I wish I had asked her to let me keep it, but I loved her too much to go against her wishes...now it's gone forever.

2. My grandmother was one of four sisters. When each of them married, her parents gave them a set of diamond jewellery. Not much, but diamonds nonetheless. Earrings and a necklace. When my grandmother had to be committed to a nursing-home ca. 2003, my dad BEGGED gran to give him the jewellery, since it was one of the very few things of REAL value that she ever owned. Gran refused, and like a fool, dad gave in and let her keep them, even though he KNEW that her answer was given when she wasn't in her right mind.

Within weeks, they'd gone missing and dad's regretted it ever since, that he didn't INSIST on keeping them.

 

[Gene]

When I was 15 my mom told me she had one of my grandpa's old suits from the 40s. Sure enough, she did! I then proceeded to turn the jacket into a safety-pinned, patched up-torn up "punk" jacket and discarded the pants. I still kick myself over that one 12 years later, and probably always will.

 

[Miss Golightly]

My Mum got a gift from her aunt of a ruby and diamond ring (judging the description my Mum gave, it was like Fergie's ring when she and Prince Andrew got engaged) - her Aunt was super generous (had an amazing jewellery collection) and very fond of my Mum and spoiled her rotten - sadly my Mum had bills mounting a while later and pawned the ring and could never afford to get it back. I sometimes wonder where it ended up and who wore it/is wearing it....

 

[Amy Jeanne]

When I was 15 my mom told me she had one of my grandpa's old suits from the 40s. Sure enough, she did! I then proceeded to turn the jacket into a safety-pinned, patched up-torn up "punk" jacket and discarded the pants. I still kick myself over that one 12 years later, and probably always will.

When I was a kid my grandmother gave me an "old" 50s dress. It was pink and had yards and yards of chiffon (or something like it!) It was floor-length kind of like this:

She gave it to me for "play" and boy did I play with it!! I decided it would be better if I cut it into a mini-skirt lol Lots of fail!

 

[Fletch]

A gold-plated Buescher curved soprano sax built in 1926. You just don't see those. I'm sure it's being "collected" to this day by the lady I traded it to.

A 1932 Joe Haymes 78 called It's About Time, which I have a dubbing of, but surely will never see an original copy again.

A couple of size 44 suits - one light grey windowpane in heavy flannel, ca. 1950, another a blue checked "V-Line" of about the same vintage, which I bought in college. I was a size 37 at the time, and had been told by an exercise physiologist I wouldn't ever gain weight. Well guess what.

A blonde named J___, with whom I was "an item" about 15 years ago. She was a little crazy, but probably nothing I couldn't have handled.

 

[randooch]

Thank you all for sharing these recollections, sad though some may be. Fascinating stuff.

 

[Undertow]

Ironrite "Mangle" Iron. Acquired it from a friend when he sold me his house. Left it in the basement of that house when I sold it. It was too heavy...:eusa_booh

 

[Shangas]

Here's a story with a twist.

Items You Regret Having Gotten Rid Of...but Managed to Recover! ​

As some of you know, my grandmother was a professional dressmaker for 30 years. She ran her own shop in the Malaysian town of Batu Pahat. Along with her assistants and apprentices, she had five Singer-branded vintage sewing-machines.

One of them was a Singer 99k knee-lever machine from 1950 (a special gift to her, on the opening of her shop). This one here:

I count my lucky stars that she loved this thing enough to keep it with her until she died last year at the age of 97. I have now inherited it, taken possession of it, restored it, cleaned it, oiled it and it's running like a top.

But what of the other four machines?

I'll be flat honest. My family has a TERRIBLE record with family heirlooms. It's the Asian culture thing that does it. Older generation Chinese cannot STAND to have old things. They really can't. It's all superstitious nonsense and old-school beliefs which they've clung to for centuries. But it means that they'll throw out anything that's even a teensy bit old.

The result was that when my gran's shop closed in the early 80s, she gave away or sold all her sewing machines, apart from the one you see in the photo up there, which is now mine.

By SHEER GOOD LUCK...the other four machines were given away to her shop-assistants and apprentices.

By more good luck, one of those apprentices took possession of TWO of those antique treadle Singers.

By even MORE good luck, that apprentice was my grandmother's adopted daughter...My aunt!

When I heard from my father and my cousin that my aunt possibly had one, or two of my grandmother's OLDEST machines...I BEGGED my father to try and get it for me! I would be horrified and deeply saddened if it was sold out of the family.

My dad rang up my aunt, and I was standing next to the phone, listening to every single word that he and she said. The conversation was in Cantonese, but I know enough scattered Cantonese to piece to conversation together and follow what was going on. It went like this:

Dad: "Hey, It's Henry. Listen, do you still have that sewing-machine? The foot-pedal one?"
Aunt: "What...No! I gave it away!"
D: "What!? Oh no..."
A: "Yes. Already got rid of it!"
D: "You know the machine I'm talking about, don't you?"
A: "The one you gave me...the one with the electric foot-pedal..."
D: "NO! I mean the REALLY OLD ONES. You know, which mother used to have in her shop!"
A: "Which machines?"
D: "The OLD ones. the mechanical foot-pedal ones!"
A: "Oooh...I used to have two of those...I gave one away..."
D: "What about the other one?"
A: "Yes, I've still got it. Why?"
D: "My son (ie: me. Shangas!) wants it".
A: "WHAT!? Why does he want something THAT old?"
D: "Aah, he's like that. He likes all those old things. Listen, I'm coming over in August, I'll have a look at it, and if I can, I'll bring it back home".
A: "It's in working condition. It's just in storage. I haven't seen it in years".
D: "Just hold onto it for me. When I come, I'll look at it and bring it home".
A: "Alright. I'll keep it on hold for you".

I could NOT believe my luck.

I seriously COULD NOT believe my luck.

An irreplaceable piece of SIGNIFICANT family history was still within our grasp.

My father and I are flying off in August. We were invited to a wedding in Scotland. We'll stop over in the Old Countries (Singapore and Malaysia) on the way, and have a look at the machine at my aunt's house, and figure out how we can pull it apart and take it back home with us to Australia on the return journey from Europe.

There. Something to cheer everyone up, after all this doom and gloom.

This is a Singer 66 treadle machine from the 1910s. Gran's will probably look something like this, or similar:

 

[scottyrocks]

Most of the things I regret parting with are vehicles. I get very attached to my cars and bikes. I have images that still haunt me, especially of a couple of different bikes being hauled away on trailers.

 

[BigFitz]

Speaking of vehicles, I regret having sold my '67 Mustang because I had nowhere to keep it.

 

[Gene]

Speaking of vehicles, I regret having sold my '67 Mustang because I had nowhere to keep it.

Ditto, but with a 1960 Ford Falcon with a broken radiator.