Bless This Mess

Our recent experience cleaning out the old homestead can probably be summed up in the last words I heard as I left on Saturday: "Whose teeth are these?"

But you know me. I'm rarely a person short on words.

Surprisingly, we did have occasion to laugh during this mammoth decluttering project, but mostly, not so much.

The sad reality is that for as long as I can remember, both of my parents have suffered from a debilitating disease called CHAOS (Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome). The culprit, of course, is compulsive hoarding – that "excessive acquisition of and inability or unwillingness to discard large quantities of objects that cover the living areas of the home and cause significant distress or impairment."

While it is embarrassing, it is not that unusual for children of the Depression Era. I don't think most of us can comprehend the impoverished conditions families survived. The “holding on to what you have” philosophy was one of safety. Nobody knew when the Depression would end or if it would get worse. The option to simply buy new things wasn’t there. Most people wouldn’t have survived if they hadn’t learned to “hoard” possessions.

Unfortunately, when the Depression ended, that mindset stayed. For a lot of survivors, including my parents. I used to just blame my mom (with her "I brake for garage sales" bumper sticker), but I know Dad was equally afflicted. Mom just happens to be the only one left to deal with it.

And us kids.

Statics show that not only did the Depression generation themselves become “stuff clingers,” they transmitted this belief to their children who began to transmit it to their children, and the cycle perpetuated. Raise your hand if you can relate.

Keep them raised if you've ever kept an item because: "It might be worth something someday." "I plan to use that for XYZ someday." "I hope to wear that someday." 

Someday, huh?

So while the 8 R's worked in shifts over the past week, trying to downsize the clutter in Mom's house, most of us couldn't cast stones. We still did, of course, but I for one, was pointing fingers at myself, too. And praying I could break the cycle!

So how does one fill a 20-foot dumpster?

One bag at a time.

While it has taken some time to convince our mom this is the best course of action to give her a cleaner and safer living environment, there still is the occasional resistance. She was concerned we were just going to dump her "whole house" in there. But we told her and illustrated through our actions that we were only throwing away "junk" but saving irreplaceable keepsakes and items she can sell.

We did get a kick out of some of the old items we found and had many emotional moments when an item such as a homemade card, old photo or favorite childhood toy conjured up old memories.

Mostly, though, that was outweighed by the hot, sweaty, dirty work. We were wisely armed with gloves and respirator masks. You never know what's in the dust in an 84-year-old home. Well, we do know some of what's in it, but no sense going into gross details.

It wasn't exactly fun, but it was a positive experience for me in the form of a wake-up call. I don't want to end up like that. I don't want my house and my life to be squeezed out by clutter. I want to prove the cycle can be broken.

Earlier this year, I started that "40 Bags in 40 Days" Challenge during Lent. I had a good start on it, but it was interrupted by spring, Lukas' visit, baseball, graduations, etc. Poor excuse AND I haven't committed the time since then to continue.

I'm doing it now, though.

Last night, I dropped off 3 boxes of leftover garage sale items at Goodwill. Typically, what doesn't sell is stored somewhere until the next one! Then tonight after work, I took boxes of leftover garage sale books to a used book store in Stevens Point that takes donations and gives you store credit in return. Two days and six boxes out.

I won't stop there. While I have started this journey before, I will keep going this time. For incentive, I only need to retrieve some of the recent images burned in this Dumpster Diva's mind. I don't want to wake up some morning and see those for real.

Thank God I still have all my teeth so no one will stumble upon those someday!