My mother-in-law passed away this weekend and we've spent the last couple of days celebrating her life.

For years, I was upset whenever my mother-in-law dumped a dilapidated box of memories into my pristine house. What was I supposed to do with an antique poster purchased on her honeymoon that didn't match my home decor? Where was I supposed to place the dusty stuffed animals that my husband loved as a child that were left on my door step? She was unable to throw anything away and I was ready to submit her story to "Hoarding: Buried Alive" on TLC.

I was pleasantly surprised when she found un-expired Disney tickets from 1984, alongside my husband's first tooth and first lock of hair. And today, I was pleasantly surprised to find the similarities between her and my first born child. My son, just like his Grandma, is a hoarder.

"You find comfort in us. A peek inside your bedside drawer illustrates your hunger for memories made as a family. Beach sand, baseball ticket stubs, Mexican sea shells shaped as a mouse (your favorite animal), rocks from our beloved Metropark hikes, 3D movie glasses, the Statue of Liberty, a wrist band from a basketball game, the list continues and I pinkie swore to never clean the drawer out. I could never, Handsome. You spend so much time standing before the drawer, quietly moving items around, quenching your thirst for memories." A letter to my son.

It's not so much hoarding. It's finding comfort in memories, that my mother-in-law did best. Just like my son.

A collection of a thousand antique cookie cutters were put to use during an afternoon of baking with my girls.

"Did Grandma use this one?"

"How cute is this one?"

The girls worked all day long, baking cookies for Grandma's funeral. They wondered if their fingers worked as hard as Grandma's fingers did when making cookies from scratch.

I assured them that they did. Grandma was a very hard worker. Grandma was a collector of things - like cookie cutters. And baskets. And nutcrackers. And recipes. And Disney tickets. And dusty teddy bears. And ....

I realized that my MIL was hanging onto memories through her collections, making sure that her imprints lived on forever.

Smart lady.