We're Never Too Old for Proper Goodbyes: the Gift of Letting Our Beloved Belongings Get Re-homed
Too Old for This Sh*t: How to Take Your Life Back from an Ageist Society
One of my favorite readers/commenters gives an example of how to graciously let go as we age
If you’re past sixty, chances are you’ve either started to downsize or have already done it multiple times. Each time you move, the process of sorting out and letting go gets tougher because we get to decide what’s really important.
This rug, that photo, this iron pot.
The iron pot that goes back in the family for generations. Can we really let that go?
Well, we can’t take it with us, unless we’re determined to be buried with it. There’s that.
We assign deep personal meaning to our stuff, the same stuff which, if it’s outside on a sunny spring Saturday for a garage sale, is looked at with disdain by folks seeking a super bargain.
It’s painful when others don’t get why something is so precious to us. But it’s not their job. It’s ours, to find a way to let go.
NancyL has been a kind reader/contributor for years. I have a standing invitation to rip off her quotes any time without asking. I do because she says marvelous things often and her wise comments are a gift to Dear Reader. I love her brains and her humor.
In this case, her story about how her family dealt with letting go struck me, as I had just penned a piece about a neighbor whose similar process was deeply painful.
NancyL writes:
In 2011, my siblings and I helped our parents slowly divest of those things in that house. Some things, like my old bicycle from the 1980s, we gave away via Freecycle or the equivalent targeted gifting platform. My dad loved peering out from his study window at the people who came to collect the free things: the bicycle, the 3 (!) fertilizer spreaders for his lovely lawn, the super from an apartment building downtown, who coveted the 1950 floor scrubber with all the original attachments still in the box!
Helping them farewell this house brought all of us together from far away. They took their beloved furniture pieces and the most important trinkets with them to an independent living apartment; local dealers drooled over the mid-century modern bedroom sets and other carefully-chosen elements of their modest but comfortable life as they readied for the next stage.
Being able to peel away the layers of their history with slow care made it so much easier. I will carry this lesson forward myself, emptying my house as I live here so there is less of a painful exhumation at the end. (author bolded)
“Helping them farewell this house.”
What a magnificent way to frame the process of moving on, choosing what is precious enough to move on with, and allowing family to take part in what truly is a ceremony of sorts.
William Bridges wrote eloquently of how life changes affect us in his seminal, evergreen book Transitions from the early 90s. Life’s endings happen TO us, how we respond is the transition. What Nancy’s family did was pull together during a uniquely emotional time. It’s a time we all face as we age, downsize and make hugely important decisions about where we live next and what gets to come along for the final ride.
One of the most important aspects of moving through transitions is reaching out and allowing others in. Each of us processes loss differently. In this case, downsizing is also the recognition of another phase of life ending while another is about to begin.
What isn’t different is how much we need each other along the way. By bringing family in on the process, it becomes a party of sorts.
Each item can be brought out, examined, remembered, stories told. That’s a worthy ceremony and a celebration of the family. It’s also a magnificent way to salute lived moments.
Above all, our relationships get affirmed in the process.
We in America are a nation in a hurry. We want to move swiftly past what is painful. Worse, we want to hide our pain and disavow the cost of grief. Grief is part of life. Turning such events into a joyful “wake” of sorts allows us to nod to coming endings while laughing right now.
We ache to celebrate these important moments. We deserve the celebration of change, and how each shift is a plot twist.
Above all, as things are let go, relationships remain. That is the only true treasure: the love we’ve invested in, the people we care about, those we allow to be witness to our endings, our transitions, our new beginnings.
Especially when that new beginning is a death.
When we allow others to play in those moments where we are letting go of aspects of our life, not only are those moments memorialized, but we are seen in all of our achingly lovely humanity.
Every time we downsize, we have the chance to upsize our life with love. The closer we move to our final moments, the more life invites us to judge what is worthy of our attention, what is worth protecting.
Above all, love. The iron pot can cook for someone else. But nobody can replace the people we love.
As we age, as we change, as we let go….
Let’s play.
Thank you for taking an autumn moment with me as the last of the leaves twist and twirl for the ground. My yard is full of color right now; the late-changing leaves and those still hanging on until the wind finally takes them aloft once more. If this story moved you please consider
If someone you know can use an idea on how to celebrate endings and new beginnings please consider
Above all, love yourself enough to let love in.
I've undergone two major downsizings that were so ruthless that the last time we moved I actually had to do some acquiring of things so our dwelling felt sufficiently homey. That said, I am very clear that, apart from a few items, the objects that surround me are for me to enjoy and for my survivors to cheerfully dispose of when the time comes. I've gone through dead & declining loved ones' stuff enough times that I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Just packe up the tagged items and call 1-800-JUNK to come get the rest, kids.
I sold my 5,000 sq ft house 2 years ago and moved into less than 800 sq ft. I gave away lots of items to friends and family, had a huge garage sale & donated the rest. It was huge relief and I felt so much lighter and freed from the weight of all the STUFF.
Some days I still wonder where a certain beloved item ended up and sometimes I miss certain things. But honestly it’s been a lovely sort of surprise to see my previous possessions in their homes when I visit friends and family.