My Kids Don’t Want My Junk: The Do’s and Don’ts of Downsizing
April 23, 2017 - garden totes
The lessons we schooled when it was time to downsize my life, and what we need to know
I dragged myself by what seemed like a 1,000th outing to a dumpster in a drive that Jan day when existence hit: My kids don’t wish my junk. And they didn’t wish their aged things either. No one does!
There it all was, piled high inside that outrageous 30-yard container-turned-coffin — 45 years of family memories and bad decisions that should have been thrown divided prolonged ago, including 3 kids’ value of initial drawings, news cards, category awards, birthday cards, initial booties, respect hurl news clippings, high propagandize graduation top tassels, dance costumes, show programs, college graduation tickets, all delicately collected for decades in boxes that gimlet their names. Remnants of my “little ones’” past were churned in with memories of cave and their dad’s, including boxes and bins of pictures, high propagandize promenade gowns, notation sweaters, 3 sets of selected Samsonite luggage, aged record albums, 22 boxes and totes of over-the-hill Christmas decorations, rubbish bags of sleepy linens, damaged furniture, peculiar lots of piece music, selected college texts and newspapers, old-fashioned domicile accessories, knick-knacks, baby furniture, games, books, collection and all else a family had amassed in a full, third-floor integument and groundwork of a 90-year-old, 1,600-square-foot colonial in Plainville. You get a picture. It was a lot of stuff. But it was time for me to pierce and a time was ticking. we had to dull a residence and usually had a few days to get it done.
“I told we we didn’t wish this stuff,” my essential social-worker daughter pronounced to me, as we whined that a changed box we had handed her during a behind doorway had been so unceremoniously tossed. “You don’t listen to us,” she said. “We told we we don’t wish this stuff.” Adding insult to injury, she sternly reminded me that she had told me we should have started make-up a year ago. “Everyone told we to get started on this and not wait until a final minute,” she reminded me for a 50th time. “We told you.”
Yes, they had. And so had my late husband, as good as assorted friends and co-workers who have already been by a ruin of downsizing. So had a horde of authors by dozens of books on creatively and concisely cleansing a household. we suspicion we had it all designed in my conduct when we finished a preference to downsize a year ago. Somehow it all fell apart, and when a shutting was 3 weeks away, we panicked, large time.
But we digress.
I write this for a integrate of reasons: No. 1,
I was asked to; and, No. 2, as a preference to my associate baby boomers who might be downsizing soon. Trust me, we am a final one to take recommendation from others, yet on this topic, we simply contingency listen. There is no easy approach to purify out a house. And, NO ONE WANTS YOUR STUFF!
Our family of 5 had a really normal middle-class life in what, in 1972, was a dream house. It was a happy home with all a apparatus of a day, including good china and clear frequency used, open and winter curtains, bedspreads and rugs, swarming bedrooms of generations of furniture, bookcases full of design albums (photos that in many cases were duplicates or usually plain bad) and decades of musical whims that finished adult being packaged divided in a aforementioned attic, a firm of crap reflecting a used phase, a pottery phase, a clear phase, a terrarium and macramé phase, a dried-flowers phase, a brown-pine-furniture proviso and a country phase. And afterwards there were a aged garments and boots that seemed to be stored everywhere. we can’t even write about that.
Getting absolved of it all wasn’t easy. Since my new life is shortly hot down to 800 block feet of attic-less, cellar-less space, we was faced with few options when it came to jettisoning a junk. One thing we did right, interjection to a not-so-gentle kid, who final Mother’s Day means me with a initial of a dumpsters we would need, was to (kind of) go by a integument when a residence went on a market.
That initial inform of a superfluous, of course, led to a regular open tab sale. My recommendation on this: be prepared! It doesn’t matter that a silverplate tea use that hasn’t seen a light of day given 1969 was costly or that we scrimped like a crazy chairman on a grocery bill in 1978 so we could buy a overpriced leather cloak we lusted for. You are not going to make your income back. So consider of a tab sale as a approach to get absolved of stuff. And any income we do make? Donate it to a favorite gift or get yourself a massage and facial. You will be earning it.
That tab sale not usually got a round rolling — nonetheless we swear some of a things we sole we have seen in several area shipment shops — yet also benefited a horde of nonprofits. Those sleepy linens were donated to a internal animal shelter. Clothes and domicile apparatus went to Goodwill and a Salvation Army. Furniture went to a smashing classification in Bristol called For Goodness Sake, that offers assist such as seat and domicile products to people and families transitioning to eccentric living. Unfortunately, a initial bid hardly put a hole in my towering of things.
Fast-forward to Oct when we knew a residence was sole and a shutting would be in January. we stockpiled some-more than 80 dull card boxes in expectation of carrying a delicately planned, organized, stress-free make-up experience. It didn’t happen. Instead we kept revelation myself that loitering a make-up devise until after a holidays would make some-more sense. It didn’t.
One daughter did thankfully wish my china and clear and some portion pieces from a pantry. Because she is an organizational freak, she finished discerning work of that by make-up it all adult on Dec. 26. My son, sons-in-law and construction business-owner daughter went by piles and piles of tools, holding those that had both practical and nauseating value. One daughter went by many of a pictures, dividing them into piles for herself and her siblings. we suspicion we were rolling right along. We weren’t.
There is this thing called a heart. And infrequently we usually can’t chuck things away, no matter how invalid it might seem. Emotions and sentiments take over. Case in point: when my mother-in-law upheld away, she left behind dual boxes full of high propagandize memorabilia, including her dance cards from a 1932 and 1933 proms during Plainville High School: flattering small paper booklets with a pencil swinging by a side. And inside, a list of a boys she danced with, including a male who would eventually turn her husband, my father-in-law. There was her marriage flowers and aged newsletters from Trumbull Electric, now General Electric, where she was employed for decades. There were sepia-tinged cinema of my father-in-law when he worked as a grocer during a now-defunct downtown beef marketplace and another of my mother-in-law when she was a teen in front of her then-residence above a aged Burt’s Restaurant in Plainville. Those aged cinema and cards, we don’t know. we usually couldn’t chuck them away. Just like we could not chuck divided a dual dozen years of high propagandize yearbooks that were housed on bookshelves during a house. Nor a spinning wheel, a hand-held garden plow from an ancestor’s plantation that had been stored in a garage, or a family’s delicately catalogued World War II allotment coupons that had never been used yet were saved and still, somehow in my mind, had value.
I called a internal chronological multitude and felt like we had strike a lottery! They couldn’t wait for me to move it all there. And now those pieces and pieces of memories, that also embody 1950s-era Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts and Little League uniforms, are on arrangement for others. And somehow my heart found assent with that. we could let them go.
I incited to Craigslist to take caring of some other cleansing matters. Vintage Roy Rogers plantation sets, mid-century infantryman playsets, dolls, dress-up costumes and assorted other toys found new homes. we used eBay as a beam to pricing, and have to acknowledge we was repelled when one set sole to a New York man, not for a contents, yet for a 75-year-old box that had somehow stayed sincerely primitive in a cupboard in a cellar.
Using Facebook, boxes and boxes of selected dress valuables were scooped adult fast by crafters who use a aged paste, rhinestone, porcelain and pearl bobs to qualification new pieces that are now really conform forward. Hundreds and hundreds of books were donated to schools, libraries and nonprofits. Old CDs, 8-track tapes, DVDs and cassette tapes went to handicapped homes and hospitals. Walkers, wheelchairs and other medical apparatus that we had indispensable once on a time were also donated to a circuitously trickery that loans them to those who don’t have a means or word to squeeze their own.
When it came to a kitchen and pantry, a kind neighbor and master of relocating brought some tough adore and coffee on one of my misfortune days of packing. As we looked during a cupboard shelf packaged with 35 coffee mugs — even yet we live alone — she simply commanded, “Choose 12.” we did and a rest became partial of a raise of too many bowls, baking ware, dishes, glasses, silverware and kitchen apparatus we had not used in years (including a George Foreman griddle and a chocolate fountain.) Within a day, they were picked adult from my front doorway by a nonprofit and on a highway to a new life, hopefully by someone who could use them.
Gardening collection and lawn-care apparatus were upheld on to my son-in-law and daughter who are relocating from a condo to their initial home. we am flattering certain we am never going to need a 100-foot rubber hose again.
I pounded bins of too-small or too-dated garments we could never wear again if my life depended on it, promulgation some to shipment and a rest to nonprofits for resale there. we did keep my marriage gown, yet we have a pass-it-on devise for that. Slowly yet surely, bedrooms emptied, and while a final 24 hours of make-up wasn’t pretty, it got done.
The dignified of a story is do it earlier rather than later, and if we are not looking during it, regulating it or wearing it some-more days than not, give it away, pass it on or chuck it away. Had we been orderly sooner, even some-more of my domicile could have found a new home distant improved than a landfill where it finished up. My new mantra is that when it comes to stuff, zero new comes into my life but something aged going out. Better still, stop buying, generally when we know we are on a downhill side of life and should be regulating adult all we have, including your appetite and suggestion and joie de vivre. Celebrate a lighter life. The things we kept for nauseating (my 1962 Beach Boys Surfin’ Safari album, even yet we have no record player) or financial reasons (I paid a happening for those Waterford candlesticks and devise to keep them even yet we occasionally perform anymore) are a things we now know that we want. And a few things that a children and grandchildren did want, well, we can't tell we how happy it creates me to see them enjoyed while we am here rather than after we am gone.
Nineteenth-century British artist and engineer William Morris had a smashing quote, and my devise is to someday amplify it on a pillowcase that, of course, will be used each day! “Have zero in your houses that we do not know to be useful or trust to be beautiful.”
That’s my new plan.
And if we find myself slipping, this will be on a other pillowcase interjection to American writer and producer Wendell Berry: “Don’t possess so most confusion that we will be relieved to see your residence locate fire.”