In the past few weeks, Hiram and I have made a considerable dent in the piles of furniture and boxes we’ve been storing since Mom broke up housekeeping. The most noticeable progress is in the extra garage stall, now free of the table and chairs Allen took to St. Paul, the bookshelf I painted and moved into my office, and two storage shelves Hiram moved to his shop downstairs. Once he hauls the remaining storage unit up to his office, Anne will be able to park in the garage for a night or two before she goes back to college.
As part of the organizational frenzy, I cleaned and reorganized my office files, nearly filling the recycling bin with old manuscripts and rejection letters. Then, I rewarded myself with new luggage, compliments of my birthday money and sweetly asked Hiram if he was ready to get rid of his yellow Samsonite college suitcase to make room for the new set.
Apparently, the last few months of inherited clutter have made him as determined to avoid saddling our kids with excessive baggage (no pun intended) when it’s our turn to break up housekeeping. He agreed to the proposition immediately and had the new luggage stowed in the closet and the old stuff out of the house before I could nag him about it.
This morning I walked past the suitcase sitting with the rest of the garbage out by the garage. Battered by years of use, misshapen after decades stuffed in one closet or another, and soggy after yesterday’s rain, it looked awful. I have no idea why we kept it around for so long. But yesterday, when I found this photo my mom took the day Hiram and I were engaged, I realized the suitcase isn’t the only thing that’s aged in the last thirty-five years. We have, too.
If we don’t let excess baggage weigh us down, I think we have more good years left in us than the suitcase does. So for the next few weeks, while I sort through closets and get rid of what we really can’t use, I’ll be checking for inward clutter, too, anything that will slow me down and hold me back. I don’t want those things anymore, can’t use them, don’t have time for them. If you see me coming your way, you might want to duck. I’m in a throwin’ mood, and nothing is sacred.
