Part of me is kidding. The other part is deadly serious. Part of the reason I suspect is the fact that I have lived in this house thirty-one years now. I grew up with hoarders. My mother didn’t throw much away. I grandmother had a tendency to store things she probably would never use again. My dad’s garage (man-cave) was jam-packed with “stuff” he brought home he found along the road. And when he worked on a trash truck collecting trash for a while, well, you can imagine the “treasures” he found to bring home.
So I come by it honestly. But honestly, enough is enough. I have been going through things for about a year now. Last years as many of you know, I painted the interior of my home, re-did the floors and many other things. I got rid of a lot. Last spring I had a yard sale and sold much stuff, stuff from the estates of my mom, my grandmother and my great aunt. It felt good. But a lot of stuff found its way into the garage and the office. Now the time has come to deal with it.
My friend Michael got my started in earnest this morning by helping me empty and re-organize the garage. As we put things back, the rear section is stuff I need to go through and/or know I want to keep and put to use. In the middle is bigger stuff, furniture, that needs to go to consignment or an estate sale business my friend Kerry works for. And the stuff in the very front will come out next week for, you guessed it, a yard sale! And if it doesn’t sell, it goes to be donated or trashed.
Its a (re)start. And it feels good. No more hoarding. It requires discipline and, frankly, security, to release the things that you might need or have memories attached. If I haven’t needed it in all this time, why would I now? And I will still have my memories. Only the things that serve me can remain. It is time for them to go to others so they can create new memories.