Whenever I'm faced with letting go of inanimate objects, especially those that have been around for a while, it's like saying goodbye to an old friend. Note the word choice of letting go, 'getting rid of' might be too harsh and could hurt their feelings. More like sent to a better place (that just might be Goodwill).
I'm not talking about a pet or a relative, or even a plant (although I have been known to write obits for them too). I'm talking about the objects in our lives that aren't living, but have taken on human qualities over the years. In my case, some have been given names and have memories attached to them.
For example, we're selling our Mini Cooper soon and I'm now going through the process of saying goodbye. I've also tearfully bid adieu to clothing, paintings and books in the past. At times it can be quite pathetic. When we were forced to sell our couches, I cried on the street.
At the same time, feeling this way has made me a lot more careful about what I bring into my home. If I don't make a connection with something, I want it out. It's not a bad way to look at things. Otherwise I might be surrounded by objects with no meaning other than to collect dust. And there's more than enough to dust here already.