I beg your indulgence today as I relate a personal story. I don’t usually do this – rarely do I share this much personal information! But I promise you, if you stick with it – it will make sense by the end.
As mentioned in last week’s post, my husband and I are getting ready to move. In less than three weeks, we’ll have begun settling in more than 1200 miles away. Since we will have no basement (!) and since it’s just really about d*mn time (!) – we are cleaning out, purging really – getting rid of the excess stuff in our lives that we just don’t need or want to have to deal with (or don’t want our kids to have to deal with) in the future.
Yesterday was “clean out my office” day. It was a daunting task, a room chock full of everything from old computers to old paperwork, personal papers, workshop materials, plus books, books and more books, and more tchotchkes and little collectible things than you can imagine. Now about 2/3 of it is either set aside for yard-sale-round-2 – or is in the trash or recycling. Gone. Much of the rest is packed up and ready to move.
Today I’m actually feeling quite pious about the whole thing. I was organized, got started early, and played my favorite music – loudly – all day. I made it as much fun as I could, considering the huge job that it was. By the time I was done, there was a certain “high” to having completed such a huge task.
Cleaning out was physically demanding. However, the real challenge was the emotional demand – something I had not anticipated. Cleaning out meant I dealt with memories all day long, some good, some not, and some alarming, as you’ll see in a moment.
I found my daughters’ birth certificates. I found the draft of my first book (one I never published). I found my divorce papers from 1988. I found all my newspaper column clippings – 6 years worth! I found my mother’s hole-in-one golf trophy from 1977. I found proposals I had written when I owned my marketing company, and thank you notes from past clients. I found the little give-aways from the radio show I hosted several years ago…. the list goes on and on.
Finding memorabilia means you revisit their history; it’s not like you can just sort those items without processing them.
And thus – the melt-down.