Cajucom: Foolish hoard

THIS coming long weekend I resolve (such a strong word, I should say...) to fix old books, other dusty stuff, and to finally purge unnecessary items from our closets. I expect hesitation on whether I should finally discard most of them. I cannot believe I have grown up to be such a packrat (well, given a recollection of my college dorm room I am not that surprised anyway).

I am all of 40 years, and a member of a fab family of five, and sometimes it is shocking to see the amount, volume and mass of things we accumulate over the years. I recall the very last time I did a general cleaning, or something remotely similar to that line of work (ha ha), and that was before New Year’s Eve last year. I tell you, even with a relatively small house like ours, two days was not enough to put everything in place. Since we adapted a more complex challenge of life without a yaya, general cleaning has proven to be a more difficult task. I can’t even begin to describe the clutter amassed over a period of time – no, make that... EVERYDAY – papers, reading materials, old toys, clothes that no longer fit, clothes that we no longer like, shoes that are worn out and outgrown, among tons of others.

Sorting through old things brings back so many memories, and thankfully in my case, mostly good ones. I went through that painful process of sorting through my Mama’s stuff months after she passed away, and it felt like re-living wonderful moments I had with her, remembering her accomplishments and celebrating her life. It was no easy task, but in a way it lessened my pain because I knew for sure she had a wonderful life that was lived to the fullest.

I think the problem with getting rid of our clutter (well, aside from the obvious reason that we don’t usually have enough time to fully commit to that task) is not wanting to part with things that remind us of so many events in our lives. Now I’m realizing that that should not be the case. D-uh. Spoken like a true hoarder. Old things we keep tend to clutter our homes but we do not need to hold on to them much longer; what is more important are the sweet memories we hold close to our hearts that do not necessitate material things to make us remember.

I am ready: like that famous tale of the empty cup, I should now give way to new things, make time for new memories, make room for new experiences.

Now, where in that heap do I start?(serendipity.couch@gmail.com)

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