My dear friend’s mom moved to this area from another state. Newly widowed, the mom wanted to be closer to her daughter. In what must’ve felt like a whirlwind, her house sold quickly, and she bought a home here.

Before she moved, however, they had an estate sale. Years of accumulated belongings were marked for sale because the new house was smaller. Even though organizers state dozens of reasons why it’s a good idea to get rid of clutter, letting go isn’t easy.

I’m someone who likes being surrounded by memorabilia and clutter. All around my desk are photos of family members, knick knacks from trips we’ve taken and half-filled notebooks. I can’t bear to part with a notebook that still contains blank pages.

Plus, I’m a self-proclaimed pen addict. On some pens, the ball point drags, and that gets to be tiresome after an hour. There’s an old coffee cup near my computer with my favorite pens, and I know I’d take the cup and all the pens with me if I moved.

My friend’s mom and I were talking about whether to hang the many photographs she’d brought with her. Right now, the walls in her new home are pristine, and hanging pictures requires patience and measuring. Plus, hanging pictures results in lots of holes in the wall and frames to dust.

My advice – hang the pictures.

Surround yourself with the faces of the people you love.

We have a small room where the grandkids watch television, and the walls are covered with family pictures.

The grands often ask me who the people are in the black-and-white photos, and I explain about their great-great grandparents. The kids hear now-familiar stories about how my grandfather started his business in this country and how my grandmother ran a fraternity when she was in her 90s.

Being in a new house has to be overwhelming but being surrounded by things that remind us of the path we’ve taken changes the blank slate of white walls into a dynamic tapestry of where we’ve been and who came with us on the journey.

Taking our familiar furniture and placing it on a new rug or floor blends the old and the new. Just because we’re in a new house or a new city doesn’t mean we don’t take our traditions and that salt-and-pepper shaker collection with us.

Starting over, whether we choose the new path or it’s forced upon us, is scary and, at the same time, exciting. Even though we leave behind a house or a city that doesn’t mean the memories don’t come with us.

Every time I go into a Lebanese restaurant, I’m instantly back in my grandmother’s kitchen, the smell of chicken and rice as familiar as my name. Browsing through an antique store and seeing items from my childhood take me back to our house on First Street in Olean, N.Y. and to our first Louisiana house on Evans Drive.

I hope my grandchildren are storing the smells and sights of our home for when they’re adults and want to remember an extra part of their childhood. To make sure, I’ll keep the baby toys, the old corduroy couch where we curled up and read books and the drinking glasses where they first tasted strawberry milk.

I know my friend’s mom will make more memories in her new home. I also know she brought along the memories of every place she’s ever lived.

Those memories stay with us forever but there’s always room for more.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.