Having bought and sold several homes in my lifetime, I’m very familiar with the various stages of moving. We have now entered the stage that I’ve learned to call “chaos.” It’s the stage where everyone involved in the changing of residences can no longer procrastinate. Of course, Cookie and I fall in that group! Repairs must be done, things must get packed, appraisers must appraise, repair folks must repair, and the reams of paperwork must be filled out. And, of course, all this must happen before the big event, commonly known as “The Closing”, can take place. And even though the date and time of the said “Closing” isn’t yet set in stone, everyone seems to realize there’s a deadline ahead.
We’ve come to that time when Cookie and I must consider those things still packed in their boxes. You know, those precious things you’ve moved from one place to another. Somehow the unpacking never took place. And so, once again comes the proverbial question: Do I really want to move that box one more time? Well, you think, someday I might need it. And how about those old clothes that I’m too plump to fit into? Am I ready to concede that the exercise program I’ve long considered just ain’t gonna happen?
My dementia has added a whole new dimension to the process of moving. I find that I am much more easily distracted by things. I have trouble recalling how and why I latched on to things in the first place. Why in the world did I once feel the need to acquire an old beat up, mechanical calculator?
I’ve been emptying closets and shelves, going through old three ring binders, and finally, giving away a lot of my books. Some of them went to my friend Rick, who’s going to seminary. Many went to the Midland Library., and some are now in the library at St. Nick’s. My wandering mind and my achy old back have made me appreciate the wisdom of Kindle!
I have been feeling this great need to give away things. I can no longer deal with all of the clutter. I no longer want to accumulate stuff. I believe some of that is from my just getting older, and some of it has to do with the dementia. I’ve had the notion that for dementia, the simpler, the better.
It’s that time in my life to be sorting and throwing, giving and packing. Truer words have never been written, that for every thing on this earth there’s a time and a season. For me, it’s the season of learning to live with dementia and learning to finally give up old things. I’m not quite sure yet which task will be harder, for we humans seem to have a great attachment to things.