Growing up

July 11 - the day of the move. In some ways, it seems as though July 11 will never arrive; in other ways, time does fly.

My house is under-contract so things are going along in a Godly fashion. A dream I had last night made me aware that I have an attachment to too many “things” and that some of them need to be let go. Some are belongings I moved from Colorado three years ago. some, not many, I acquired while here - that even counts the Wellsboro walking stick I purchased at the Laurel Festival that will accompany me on hikes when I get to my new home. This morning I sold my glass-top table to someone who will put it to good use. Two chairs are promised to John and Bill, the Christmas Tree that is too large will be snatched up by a young family at the yard sale.

Aware that some things may need to be replaced, I have put money received from selling into a separate account, to be closed when I leave and used for those things I decide I need. An example: The microwave went home with Ann and I test my life sans microwave for one month. If life is painful, I will purchase a smaller one, with fewer bells and whistles in NM. The only things safe from purging are preaching and theology books - these stay for many more years. O, and the cats!

Each time I decide not to take one of my possessions that I have held on to for these years, a bit of me grieves. Sensibilities say “let go” - sentiment says “it does not take much room” - right now sentiment is winning.

Divesting myself of these possessions means I begin a way of life that was at once very distant: older age. Statistic: a huge percentage of older Americans will work until they are 80. I suspect the life that accompanies the work takes on a different tone. My downsizing is poignant, but I am determined not to hold on to so much that they consider me a candidate for Hoarders. My new digs have 910 square feet, down from about 2,000 here. No sentimental ash trays for me! (I quit smoking some 30 years ago, but one ash tray somehow made it across the country several times.) No Christmas tree and lights that take up half of my living room, and the round table was just too impractical for the small dining “room” of this new apartment. Memories stay, they don’t take up much room.

Bring on this older age!