A few nights ago I dreamed I was wrestling an anaconda. (I’ve dreamed this before.) I woke up, and it was just that I had too many pillows in the bed with me. But now, even though I’m awake, I still feel like I’m wrestling that thing.
The dreaded de-cluttering continues. Going through a person’s stuff is awful. Dismantling their collection of artifacts seems so cruel. George had some kooky stuff. He searched far and wide for his stuff and it seems such a shame to send it to the four winds.
He liked hats. He had hats with ear-flaps, hats with brims that hung down to his shoulders, the requisite 50 odd ball caps, fur hats, cowboy hats, straw hats, ear muffs, noise reducing ear muffs, a hard hat with a plastic visor and ear protection (!) and more. Going through the closet today we had quite a few giggles looking at those things, and I shed a few furtive tears.
Unearthing things in George’s office has been like and archaeological dig. We lift piles of paperwork carefully, afraid to disturb some organizational scheme we can’t comprehend. He was a pile-er and there are lots and lots of piles. If you sent George a note or letter in the past six years I can guarantee you it is up there in his office still. He had a foolproof method of never losing anything important. He just never threw anything away. It works, but it creates other issues, obviously. I’ve been culling through directions, flight logs, memos, receipts, check stubs, mail, pictures, etc. until I feel like turning on a giant fan, opening the window and watching it all fly away. But there’s lots of important stuff in them thar hills of paperwork, so I’m sifting carefully.
Then there are personal items. Lily has discovered his dopp kit and is slowly pilfering every grooming implement he owned, a collection of things it took him a lifetime to assemble. “I need it,” she says, as she scampers away clutching some kind of clippers. I just let her go. I’m too tired to fight over every little thing she takes.
We got into his tool box. Now, I’m talking about a GIANT professional toolbox, one of those rolling red things. Inside are ratchet sets to cars, I guess? Not sure. And all sorts of specialty tools. No idea how to value these things.
I went through his book collection. Its brimming with very odd titles that would be of interest to somebody (the right somebody.) Tomes on WWII, cowboy novels, biographies, rock and roll bios and memoirs and many other interesting books are now stacked in our garage. Just the books alone are overwhelming.
So the declutter ladies are coming again on Monday, when we will attack his clothing. There’s a lot of it, and we are going to sell a lot on eBay. Check back here if you think you’d like to look it over as I’ll link to it once the auctions are live. We’re taking the proceeds to put in Lily’s college fund.
If you are a collector or a saver or a storer and you have loved ones, consider lightening the load for them by getting rid of things you don’t really care about. If you do care about them, then be kind and organize them so that your survivors will be able to easily and efficiently sell, give and save things after your death. Even simply putting a piece of tape inside or on the back of things explaining their value or age is unbelievably helpful. Putting like items in boxes is great.
I also think there’s nothing wrong with making up “fun boxes” for friends and family to throw keepsakes into over time so that survivors know what was for who. George saved a lot of stuff for friends and family and now I’m trying to divine who he meant to receive certain items. Taping receiptsinside of things is a great idea, so the person who comes after you knows something about the value of the collected item. I collect folk art and I try to write what I paid for each thing and its age on the back of the piece.
George would have done any and all of these things if he’d ever for one second thought I’d be stuck trying to figure it all out.
So we have too many things in this home. Too many collections, too many hats, too many clothes, and I guess too many pillows. The anaconda is wrapped around me, and right now I feel like it’s winning. It has me pinned and I’m flapping my arms and legs helplessly. I’ve got three women trying to get it off of me, and if we keep after the sorting I’m sure at some point I’ll get some relief. But I’ve never liked the feeling of being bested, and right now the stuff in my house has the better of me. I’m not giving up, but I’m getting very, very tired.
Just a suggestion: consider your stuff carefully!
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I have been sorting through our stuff for years. Jimmy and I are both thrifters, creators and collectors. Records, shoes, hats, books, musical instruments, and art. We make it, we buy it, we pluck it from trash heaps. When my grandmother, his mother and aunt died, we inherited more boxes and furniture and art. Having helped disperse other people’s collections, I know I need to clear out now, while I’m still able. I appreciate the idea of labeling it, that is thoughtful, if I should suddenly pass and leave the task of distributing to others. Hang in there Lisa! And do save some things FOR Lily FROM her. Receiving it much later will possibly prevent it’s being lost (I lost stuff of my Dad’s when I was young and careless).
I’m putting some things away for her. Thanks Lenore.
YES! But you’re getting through it and finding all sorts of neat, interesting, quirky and things of great emotional and maybe monetary value…so VERY COOL. You might have someone come value the books and anything else, cuz then you’d save those really rare things for Lily rather than nilly willy just giving them up. You’ve heard about people buying very valuable things (unwanted and unknowingly sold by the sellers for pennies) at garage sales, etc. George sure did a whole lotta stuff all his life…what a very interesting soul but then, you already know that.
take care and hugs to you and Lily,
joy