Emptying Out

Everybody I know has a house to empty out.  Either they are moving or a parent must downsize; it is very stressful for them, all of them.  I was spared all that by a house fire (in which no one was injured.) That was stressful too, but I knew what to do with all the stuff; nothing.  When they tore down the house they tore down the stuff too.

I have watched and helped people go through lifetimes of accumulated treasure, which turns out to be worthless after the life is complete.  The things were of use to the living, and wonderfully full of hope when new, alas are merely the remnants of a completed run. They are sad reminders that stuff is as stuff does.

That having been said; I am a saver. I am trying to throw away debris in our house to avoid the day when someone goes through my junk and says "Why? Why on earth would anyone save THIS?" When my husband, who throws away anything and everything, says we don't need this, a wave of panic, rage and defensiveness runs through me.  It isn't so much of a protective act, as it is a moment or two, or a year or so, to get used to the idea of living without something. "Something" is connected to the actions from which it came, to the shared experience, to the energy and youth it absorbed; now so precious as it wanes.

I remember the day my kids discovered that we could make a tuba from a flexible hose and a funnel. I remember going to the store to get those items and constructing the tuba.  I remember playing it and dissolving into gales of laughter; again and again.  We, of course, keep the memories, but it took me about eighteen months to let go of the tuba.

I let the Wicked Witch of the West's hourglass go today too.  I built it for my daughter in 1996, for a play.  It was constructed out of two large soda bottles, red sand and a tornado tube, mounted in a wooden bracket, which I also constructed, and held in place with burlap string and wood glue.  My daughter used it for a nightstand until this year.  I kept the tornado tube, they are hard to find these days.  Ding dong, the Witch is....grown up.

The kids are grown up and the house is getting clean(er).  The kiddie books went to a hospital library, the clothes to the thrift shop, the toys as well.  Yards sales, dumpsters, charity, eat all our old days, whether recent or not. I like touchstones, but I do not want to live like a hoarder. Letting go of the stuff is freeing. Today I passed an old tree which had been hewn down; usually I feel very sad. Today, I allowed myself to realize that I have no control over the actions of others and that my memory of the landscape with the tree, will stay with me forever (hopefully). So I went on my way to create new days for me and for others.  Perhaps it is time to plant a new tree.