Two weeks ago, Robert and I talked about a clean-out project to clear our attic, garage, and shed. I distinctly remember this conversation and was waiting for the planning phase to begin. So, I thought I had time. Time to take an inventory of each item in all three areas. Time to think about their function, and time to consider how often we used them in the past year. This data point would then inform us on which things would stay, and which ones would go. And then we could determine the size of the dumpster to rent, and how long we’d need it. This is what I was thinking. But alas, it is not what Robert had in mind.
While on a walk with Kippers last Monday morning, Robert took out his phone and called our local waste management company and before noon…on the very same day…a 40-yard bin came rolling up our cul-de-sac. Mind you, our property is on a curve, so the only place to put this huge trash container was in front of our neighbor’s house. I was concerned, not him. He lives by the principle of asking for forgiveness instead of permission, so that’s how it played out. He simply waited for Kathy to head to her mailbox and then he casually walked outside and waved her over. He told her we were doing a clean out and even said she was welcome to toss any unwanted things into the bin, too. She smiled, and actually wished him well!
To be honest, I was feeling a bit put off by this sudden project. Afterall, I had my week already scheduled. Workouts, writing, art, meals, even training Kippers, all written in ink, permanent black ink. It wouldn’t have been a problem, but…here’s the thing. Robert’s idea of salvageable items and mine, well, they differ. And I know he’s thoughtful, which means I knew every time he’d come across something that I might want, he’d politely seek me out, to ask me to look at “so and so” to see if I wanted to keep it. I just couldn’t bear the thought of this constant state of interruption, so I decided to clear my calendar, and wholeheartedly help.
From my journal: October 3, 2023, Newbury Park, California
“Going through my boxes is actually kind of…fun! Taking things slowly…one item at a time. So many memories!”
There were only four containers in the shed that officially belonged to me. Their contents were mostly sentimental. When it comes to saving letters, cards, and notes from my family, friends, even former students and their parents, I can be somewhat of a…hoarder. Who doesn’t like to be reminded of special times, people, and places? I found a note from the Share family. “Our daughter truly blossomed under your nurturing, love, and guidance…” And from a friend years ago who was going through a breakup. “…you were there when I really needed you.” And words from my mom, “I enjoyed our marathon conversation…I’m so lucky to have you as a daughter and a great friend.” So heartwarming!
Books from my classroom library filled the remaining boxes. This surprised me as I thought I had given away many when I left teaching. Most were in mint condition and my heart sang as I handled each one recalling the hundreds of times I had read them to my students. Each was like an old-time friend that makes you feel warm and happy when you see them.
From my journal: October 6, 2023, Newbury Park, California
“Exhausted…after pairing down the shed and attic boxes… I have to go through the bookcases in the garage…where did all these books come from? I need to give them away…”
Three more days into this project, I was not as picky about what I was keeping. Just a few dozen handwritten notes and books were put aside. When I closed the last container of books to donate, I kind of felt like an addict finally facing their affliction. The sheer number of books I was giving away stunned me. Do you want to guess how many? Precisely, four hundred and forty-six, yes that’s 446?!
The piles of items to sell was small, the heaps of things to donate was medium, and the bulk of unusable and unrepairable goods was large. It astounded me as to the number of things we held onto, mostly because the amount grew gradually over the years, so we didn’t realize how much we had, until we did.
Dropping off our last boxes at our local library and Goodwill on Saturday, I suddenly felt a sense of peace. It may have had to do with knowing the books, sports equipment, housewares, and more would now have new homes and new purposes. New people to enjoy them. The things we sold on eBay and Craig’s List went to people who wanted or needed them. But looking at the things in the bin, I felt both relieved, and a bit shameful. Not only don’t I like the idea of burying things in a landfill, but it made me wonder. Did we make an effort to repair, repurpose, or rehome these items before discarding them? On the whole, I’d say we did.
This weeklong trip down Memory Lane and through decades of our lives, has left me in a state of appreciation. Appreciating what I held on to, what I let go of, and where I am right now. There really is…no time like the present.
A Journal Journey 