We are moving from our first home together, from our daughter’s
‘growing up house’ and sizing down has been an interesting and emotional
experience; so many changes all at once; so many realizations about life, and
about the experience of growing older.
It seems that every experience is so keen to me these days, so extreme
in reflection and thought, and so much looking back.
I just sold my Grandmother’s Singer sewing machine. I dated
its manufacture between 1935 and 1938. It
no longer worked. Suffice it to say, it
was old. While I had possession of it, I
didn’t feel any particular connection to it – except that I like to sew – to
quilt actually – but I never actually saw my grandmother sew anything. She died when I was five – as I was barely
getting to know her. Most of what I
remember about her is legend but her legend was mostly about her baking and her
cooking – and that I do
remember… But I feel this kind of
interesting, weird emptiness seeing the vacant spot where it used to be…almost guilty
for not appreciating its value or what it represented like in some way I have
disrespected her memory. But I know it
was just an item on a long list of ‘stuff.’
Stuff somehow gets associated with people and we make deep personal
connections to it. These connections
keep us aligned with one another and bridge us from past to present to
future. They run deep.
This process of moving has been kind of surreal for me. I have known we are doing this for two years
now as we have planned a construction of a home in a location 150 miles from
here in a place we both enjoy – and closer to my husband’s aging parents. I believe in my heart this change is a good
thing for both of us – but it is still hard.
I am leaving a geographic location I have known for all of my life. During this time I have cleaned out every
cupboard, closet, nook, and cranny. I
have touched just about everything we own and mentally decided whether or not
we would ever use or need the item again.
Then I have either packed or set aside each item for sale or
donation. It’s been, at times, a heart
wrenching experience. I have watched old
videos, listened to old music, picked through old photographs, examined old wedding
dresses, and decided what to do with furniture we will not need – including,
but not limited to, the vintage Singer sewing machine.
It’s really been hard – and it’s been a task of the heart.
I keep telling myself – this is really a good thing. I am doing this for my family, my husband, for
my daughter – who, an only child, will be left with, I hope, a very simple task
in the end, with only the very sentimental or valuable items she wants for
herself when we are gone.
I remember my Mom doing this – while she was quite ill – and
all the while, I knew in my heart she was doing it to make the task easier –
because she knew how limited her time was.
In the end – it was still hard, emptying a very large house for my Dad
when he suddenly decided to move into assisted care and never went back
home. It was daunting and it took me and
my sister and our husbands a whole week to rid the house of everything – even
after my Mom did the yeoman’s work first.
And now here we are again.
It’s a cycle.
We are not dying. And
we are not moving into assisted care or anything like that, at least I would
like to hope NEVER or at least not for a VERY LONG TIME. In fact, we are excitedly looking forward to
a long retirement – yes – I have been a retired person for nearly two years,
and my husband is now making that choice for himself and for us. Our move – into an active-lifestyle-55+
community is a very good thing. We are
indeed looking forward to a great retirement.
It’s just that I tend to be a realist when it comes to these situations. Having lived some very sad moments with my
parents and their very long slides and illnesses toward their returns ‘home’ I
hold no illusions about the future.
Interestingly, my husband’s family appears to be less tender on that
front. Oh, they’ve had their health
issues to be sure, but they remain active and participating members of their
community as octogenarians. My parents
never had that chance. So I believe my
caution is understandable. It remains,
however, my solemn commitment to remain in my home as long as possible – if not
for the rest of my life.
And so, as I watched the buyer carry that machine out the
door, I know the real process of change has begun. Tomorrow someone else comes to buy other
pieces of furniture we are selling because we will not need them or have room
for them in our new home. It will be
hard, at least in the short run, and we will fill in the gaps in the landscape
with other things…new memories, new pieces of furniture, new friends, new
experiences. But in the end, it’s all
just ‘stuff.’ The most important things
we can hang onto in our lives are each other – and we should. We should keep perspective and recognize the
blessings bestowed upon us, but mostly, the time we have been gifted to spend
with those we love the most.
The man who bought the sewing machine is going to have it
repaired and then he is going to sell it again.
It will be returned to service. I
thought that was a very cool thing. My
grandmother’s machine will be brought back to life and someone else will use it
to create beautiful things. Knowing this
somehow has given me great consolation and it also has confirmed the
continuation of the 'cycle.' That's life, and as I move
forward on the major changes ahead, I will commit to relishing the memories
and embracing new opportunities.
