The United flight is partway from Minneapolis, headed to Denver. From there, United takes me to Billings, MT. My friend, Toni, will pick me up in Billings, and we’ll drive to Lewistown. Scott and I have a nearly full storage unit with life’s stuff that wouldn’t fit on the moving truck when we moved to Wisconsin. I’m going to spend the rest of this week dealing with these accumulated items, items that were once important, and some maybe still are.
I have moved 21 times. Letting go is something I understand. I don’t embrace it. I’m not a minimalist nor a hoarder. I still have things from that very first home, home #1. Not large items, mind you, but still items I am not willing to part with yet.
With each move, I am challenged by the process of letting go. With each move, there’s a period of grieving, not grieving like with the loss of a family member or a friend, but still a loss.
At my current age, I can see the end of my life approaching sooner rather than later. And the “stuff” that will have to be dealt with either by me or family. My mother refused to let go of much of anything, so I was the one who had to deal with it. Wow! Daunting! Some of what’s in storage is her stuff, plus a couple of generations before her that she kept. There is not only physical weight to those accumulated things but emotional weight. The letting go of those things carries a heavy dose of guilt. I am the last generation that cares or even halfway remembers the history of these things. I tried to get my mother to write the history down, but she was tired, just plain and simply… tired. I can understand because I’m at the age at which point I begged her to do the writing. I’m now tired. And what family member would care anyway?
So, what hasnt already gone to the few relatives that did care will be sold for pennies, going in a garage sale.
I haven’t even gotten into the gigantic question of why I and ultimately why any of us “buy” so much stuff then turn around a few years later and get rid of it.
Deb’s Blog 