One way to deal with it all. There are better methods. |
My previous
post touched on the fact that we, like most Americans, have wayyyy too much
stuff. Too many possessions, too much
junk, too much stuff we don’t need, don’t want, don’t use any more. Sure, at one time we wanted it, needed it, had to have it.
Now, it just clutters up the room, the house, and our lives.
This is a pressing issue now as we prepare to move. It’s the first time in 18 years since we
rented a U-Haul, and we know from experience that U-Haul also means you pack,
you carry, and you do pretty much everything.
Even though we haven’t moved in quite a while, in our 43 years of
marriage we’ve moved 15 different times, four different states, and three
cross-country moves. We’ve got it down
to a science – we’ve (mostly) learned from our mistakes.
First off, the more you have, the more you have…to move, so
get rid of what you won’t need in the new home.
Second, furniture is heavy. We
started buying less for design and more for functionality – that is to say,
weight. Another tip – know where the
Goodwill truck is parked, and have other outlets for the stuff they won’t take.
Even though we know all this, it seems we still face
countless boxes to pack up and move.
Books are the main culprit, though this time we seem to have gobs of
paper. Files from the business, files
from the construction project for the new house, and many many many files we
have not culled in quite some time.
Thank goodness we own a shredder.
If our own history hasn’t taught us the value of
decluttering and simplicity, our families have provided more (junk) food for
thought. When my grandmother died and my
father dragged me to her house to go through all of her stuff, I was
shocked. She was a prudent woman who
“lived through the depression, you know” and was just not about
possessions. She and my grandfather
lived simply and frugally. So I thought.
She was a packrat of the worst kind.
She did not throw ANYTHING away. Ever.
We found Christmas presents given years ago, still in the original
box. With the original wrapping
paper. And never used (neither the gift
nor the paper). We found boxes for jars
and lids for canning (she stopped canning food a long time ago) and we found
shelves of food she HAD canned…again, a long time ago. My father cursed for days as we packed box
after box to take to the Salvation Army and the thrift store.
Fast forward years later, and it’s me, my brother, and my
Mom after Dad died. In the
basement. With Dad’s ELEVEN bowling
balls (he quit bowling 10 years prior).
And old work clothes and tools (he retired 13 years ago). And so.
Much. Junk.
He obviously didn’t learn a thing from his own mother, or he
was seeking revenge for her pack-rattiness in the only way he could. We found all sorts of “fun” and “interesting”
things my mother had NO IDEA that he had kept from DECADES ago. We found broken radio earplugs – 13 pairs,
that Mom said he was “going to get around to fixing one of these days.” We even found a gun she never knew he
had. But the best discovery was a 36
count box of Trojans (it was opened, but I never bothered to count how many
were in the box – most of them, for sure).
I did mention my father was 77 when he died, didn’t I?
I did mention we found the condoms in his dresser drawer –
and that by “we” I mean “my mother and I.”
I was embarrassed, and looking for a way to explain what, or
how, or why, when Mom said, “Why, shit – what the hell did he need these
for?” And began to laugh
hysterically. “He sure didn’t need no
gawd damn condoms. Oh, Gawd! Who the hell did he…? Shit! Oh
my Gawd!” I have never seen her laugh
like that. Ever. It certainly came at the right time, as she
had been feeling very maudlin about Dad’s passing, and it made the rest of the clean
up a little easier.
But there was still too much stuff. It took days to go through it all and to get
rid of it. And while I have no condoms
of my own to move, I am a bit more careful about getting rid of stuff I don’t
use or need any more. My next post will
be my “scorecard” as to our efforts in simplification. Some good, some bad…some ugly.