Keeping Our Stuff

Several years ago I sold the house I had lived in for 45 years.  On the morning the sale closed, the buyers stopped by to take possession and found me on the patio in back, sorting through boxes of papers and possessions that had been left for the trash collector.

“I’ll be finished soon,” I said.  They looked at me as if I was nuts.  Maybe I was, at least in the sense that I am a saver of stuff and reluctant to dispose of anything. While my need to save hasn’t risen to the level of hoarding, there certainly is room for improvement.  So I’m working on letting go of possessions I no longer need.  It’s not easy.

Clearly, over the years, I have accumulated a lot of “stuff.”  But when I find something I haven’t seen or thought about for years, I still want to keep it, “just in case.”

Daveen is now “organizing” her “stuff” in our garage.  She showed me a pair of my gloves that I don’t remember and haven’t worn for years.  I seldom need gloves, but I kept them even though I don’t know when I will ever wear them.

Last Sunday evening at a dinner with friends, this topic came up.  While we discussed our collective need to save things, someone proposed a logical explanation.  Perhaps it is “depression mentality,” passed on to us by our parents, who grew up in the “Great Depression” of the 1930’s.

One woman said, “In our garage we still have my mother-in-law’s dining room table.  We’ve stored it in the garage of our last three homes, even though we will never use it.”

Ultimately, I’ve realized that I don’t really care if my children have to sort through my stuff and throw most of it out. Maybe they will find a treasure or two. Daveen feels the opposite – she wants to sort through her stuff herself.  I guess all couples have different styles and approach their challenges in different ways.

Years ago I hired a professional organizer.  She divided everything into three categories – “keep”, “decide,” or “discard.”  I never got around to looking through any of it.  Those boxes are probably still lurking in my home somewhere.

By contrast, in Viet Nam we visited the home of a rural artist.  While his art overflowed the house, his possessions included just two sets of clothes — one for today, the second for tomorrow.

Next year Daveen and I plan to move again.  She has already sent a full truckload of my stuff to storage.  I plan to visit it one day.

And in 2022 you will probably find me, on the day the sale for my present house closes, still there, sorting through my stuff.

Alan