It’s Not Easy to Say Goodbye to Stuff

Friday, November 20, 2009

Page 11

AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)

It’s Not Easy to Say Goodbye to Stuff

By J’AMY PACHECO

I’ve done a lot of moving in my lifetime. In fact, I’ve lived in seven different houses over the past 20 years. Some have been for relatively short periods; others, longer.

After nearly six years in our present home, we’re preparing to move again. This time, our move will take us to a location 50-some miles away, to the area we High Desert residents call “down below.”

With so much moving experience, you’d think I’d be good at it. I’m not. The process always takes longer than I expect and my family always ends up hurriedly shoving things into boxes as the moving truck revs its engine in the driveway.

The result is that we end up taking a lot of stuff we no longer need, carting it from house to house with the intention of getting to it, “someday.” Although we only have two weeks until the big move, we’re still sorting through our possessions to decide what goes to the new house, and what goes bye-bye forever.

It’s no easy task to begin with, but it’s made more difficult by the fact that the new house needs a lot of preparatory work before we can fill it with our stuff. Nights and weekends are spent driving to and from meetings with contractors, floor people, appliance salespeople, people who repair screens and anybody else who has the time to do renovations we can’t possibly handle ourselves.

If the time limitation wasn’t enough of a challenge, making an item-by-item decision on what to keep and what to ditch is difficult.

Baby things, for example. I still have all of the vases that held the floral arrangements I received when my daughter was born. I have no use for them, and no room to store them at the new house. But I’ve had them for 13 years—and one of them was sent by the son of famed Western celebrity Roy Rogers, for whom I was writing at the time. I know it should go, but it’s begging me to find a place in a box.

Toys are another problem. My daughter has rather large “Woody” and “Jessie” dolls of Toy Story fame. She hasn’t played with them in years, but she isn’t ready to let them go. Every time I think of forcing the issue, I see her as a tiny girl holding Jessie by the hands while twirling in the Esplanade outside of Disneyland. It’s such a sweet memory that it brings tears to my eyes. Besides, if you’ve seen “Toy Story II,” you saw Jessie dumped in a roadside donation box and witnessed her reaction. How can I do that to Jessie?

Of course, it’s hard to have any credibility as an enforcer when you still have your childhood Barbie dolls. And I do.

Clothing should be easy. There’s a rule that says if you haven’t worn something in the last year, get rid of it. When the plastic bags come out for sorting, however, I can’t just do a mass dumping of outgrown clothing.

My clothes-horse daughter has owned some adorable garments, and I find myself wanting to sort them into piles for specific people. The sweet little Tinker Bell jeans, for example, are too cute (and expensive) to just drop off at a thrift store. Her cousins are too small to be able to wear them in the near future, so discarding the jeans means I have to run down a mental list of all the girls I know who might fit into and want the pants.

I don’t know why I do this to myself.

The last time I moved, I realized I had a lot of glass baking dishes in the same size. I whittled my collection down to one each. Wouldn’t you know it—when it came time for my annual Christmas party, I needed those extra dishes but no longer had them. Now I’m afraid to part with anything else, kitchen-wise.

While I’m sorting, discarding and packing, I have to keep in mind the fact that we’re moving right before Christmas. Christmas is “our” holiday, and every year, we host the big annual family dinner.

That means I have to keep all of my Christmas stuff handy, and be prepared to set it up very quickly upon arrival. Since it usually takes me several days to assemble, light and decorate our artificial tree, I’m a little worried about ending up looking like The Grinch this year.

And I’m holding off on buying gifts—the more I buy ahead of time, the more I have to pack and keep track of.

I’m giving some serious thought to just wrapping up the stuff I don’t need and putting it under the hastily-assembled tree. Anybody who has ever moved would certainly understand, and I’d end up saving a lot of time.

Need a pair of Tinker Bell jeans, size 10? Drop me a line. I’ll even supply the wrapping paper.