Lost friends and clutter
Mar. 27th, 2006 08:15 am(I feel like all of my posts should include, "Still not king auntie" until it no longer applies.)
My parents have sold their house in Omaha and will be up here looking for a house in the Cities area after today. (For those of you not keeping a scorecard of my extended family's activities, Dad had a job opportunity with his current company arise, but it required a relocation up here, so they're moving. So far it appears that my grands are staying in Nebraska -- where they moved from the Twin Cities area to be with my parents and me.)
One of the things this means is that my mom is cleaning things out, deciding what to move and what to leave with the grands (who are moving from their house into Mother and Dad's house, so actually it's the grands' house that's sold to an outside party) and what to get rid of entirely. A few weeks ago, Dad brought me a box of dragons and things left in the drawers of the built-in cabinet in my old bedroom. I still have to go through the dragons, but I went through the rest this morning: a good three-sided ruler, my grandpa's old compass and protractor set, mix-tapes from my adolescence, and two Amy Grant CDs.
My mom gave me Amy Grant CDs after I started spending time with Stephanie across the street. Steph was three years older, sweet, soft-spoken, kind, fragile, fond of poetry. She listened to Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith and talked with quiet intensity about her faith. Mom felt safe when I hung out with Steph and listened to Amy Grant, but I never got into the music. It was just there because Steph liked it, and I liked Steph. We were never "best friends," but we enjoyed each other's company.
Stephanie killed herself when I was a junior in college. She was a tiny person, and they couldn't get the balance of anti-depressants right in time for her. Maybe she could have been like many of you if she'd been able to survive longer, finding a treatment balance that worked, able to find or make good days among the bad. Maybe there would have been a new drug that worked, or maybe her body would have settled in of its own accord. We didn't have the chance to find out.
The summer I got married, I went through some of my old things at my folks' house myself. I took a bunch of CDs I had been given as gifts to a pawn shop and sold them, but even though Amy Grant had never really been my thing, even though I knew I would never listen to them again, I didn't want to sell these CDs.
I don't really want the CDs. What I want is for Steph to be alive and happy, and what I want is to never, ever have to worry about something similar again with any of the rest of you. And I don't get either of those things, whether I keep the CDs or not.
When we got nightstands a couple of months ago, I went through the old plastic storage bins we'd been using to set our glasses on before. I'd put old letters in there, birthday cards, documents of various kinds. I threw out pay stubs from my workstudy job in college. I kept a forward
scottjames sent me when we were freshmen in college, before we started dating, because he greatly improved it with his annotations, and while I didn't laugh so hard rereading it as I did at the time, I remembered how hard I laughed at the time. It reminded me of how much I love my friend, and of why. I recycled another letter from
scottjames because it reminded me of why we broke up, and as we aren't in any danger of reversing that decision, reliving that particular set of reactions did not seem like something I wanted for the future.
For me, the question of decluttering is always, "What do I want this for?" And, "I want this so that I can be reminded of a good time with a good friend," is a perfectly reasonable answer (to a point -- when you can no longer move about your home because of the said reminders, or when you have a fire hazard, or when you can no longer enjoy good times with good friends now, that may be a problem). But the point is, you are the one who has to answer that, not some objective board of inquiry. I haven't watched much of any of the decluttering shows on TV, and one of the reasons is that they don't seem to accept that good answers to that key question can vary. Making people get rid of all but two shelves of books is not at all respectful of variation in values.
I'm torn on the subject of the Amy Grant CDs, because my real, honest answer is, "I want this because I want Steph to be alive and happy," and that's not something that keeping the CDs will actually accomplish. If I keep them, it won't be on the shelves with the rest of our CDs. It will be in the bottom of a storage tub in the basement. I can very nearly guarantee that I will never have cause or desire to play them again. If I sold them or gave them away, someone might enjoy the music the way Steph enjoyed the music. I can tell that I am not processing this rationally. What I can't tell is whether I should try to make myself process it rationally.
What would you do?
My parents have sold their house in Omaha and will be up here looking for a house in the Cities area after today. (For those of you not keeping a scorecard of my extended family's activities, Dad had a job opportunity with his current company arise, but it required a relocation up here, so they're moving. So far it appears that my grands are staying in Nebraska -- where they moved from the Twin Cities area to be with my parents and me.)
One of the things this means is that my mom is cleaning things out, deciding what to move and what to leave with the grands (who are moving from their house into Mother and Dad's house, so actually it's the grands' house that's sold to an outside party) and what to get rid of entirely. A few weeks ago, Dad brought me a box of dragons and things left in the drawers of the built-in cabinet in my old bedroom. I still have to go through the dragons, but I went through the rest this morning: a good three-sided ruler, my grandpa's old compass and protractor set, mix-tapes from my adolescence, and two Amy Grant CDs.
My mom gave me Amy Grant CDs after I started spending time with Stephanie across the street. Steph was three years older, sweet, soft-spoken, kind, fragile, fond of poetry. She listened to Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith and talked with quiet intensity about her faith. Mom felt safe when I hung out with Steph and listened to Amy Grant, but I never got into the music. It was just there because Steph liked it, and I liked Steph. We were never "best friends," but we enjoyed each other's company.
Stephanie killed herself when I was a junior in college. She was a tiny person, and they couldn't get the balance of anti-depressants right in time for her. Maybe she could have been like many of you if she'd been able to survive longer, finding a treatment balance that worked, able to find or make good days among the bad. Maybe there would have been a new drug that worked, or maybe her body would have settled in of its own accord. We didn't have the chance to find out.
The summer I got married, I went through some of my old things at my folks' house myself. I took a bunch of CDs I had been given as gifts to a pawn shop and sold them, but even though Amy Grant had never really been my thing, even though I knew I would never listen to them again, I didn't want to sell these CDs.
I don't really want the CDs. What I want is for Steph to be alive and happy, and what I want is to never, ever have to worry about something similar again with any of the rest of you. And I don't get either of those things, whether I keep the CDs or not.
When we got nightstands a couple of months ago, I went through the old plastic storage bins we'd been using to set our glasses on before. I'd put old letters in there, birthday cards, documents of various kinds. I threw out pay stubs from my workstudy job in college. I kept a forward
For me, the question of decluttering is always, "What do I want this for?" And, "I want this so that I can be reminded of a good time with a good friend," is a perfectly reasonable answer (to a point -- when you can no longer move about your home because of the said reminders, or when you have a fire hazard, or when you can no longer enjoy good times with good friends now, that may be a problem). But the point is, you are the one who has to answer that, not some objective board of inquiry. I haven't watched much of any of the decluttering shows on TV, and one of the reasons is that they don't seem to accept that good answers to that key question can vary. Making people get rid of all but two shelves of books is not at all respectful of variation in values.
I'm torn on the subject of the Amy Grant CDs, because my real, honest answer is, "I want this because I want Steph to be alive and happy," and that's not something that keeping the CDs will actually accomplish. If I keep them, it won't be on the shelves with the rest of our CDs. It will be in the bottom of a storage tub in the basement. I can very nearly guarantee that I will never have cause or desire to play them again. If I sold them or gave them away, someone might enjoy the music the way Steph enjoyed the music. I can tell that I am not processing this rationally. What I can't tell is whether I should try to make myself process it rationally.
What would you do?
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 02:32 pm (UTC)Rationality is overrated
Date: 2006-03-27 02:33 pm (UTC)The size of a couple of CDs does not require rationality, in my opinion.
Re: Rationality is overrated
Date: 2006-03-27 03:38 pm (UTC)Re: Rationality is overrated
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 02:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 02:47 pm (UTC)Well said.
I agreewith
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 02:52 pm (UTC)I do enjoy some of the decluttering shows (there are quite a few, aren't there?). Sometimes I wince when they talk people into getting rid of their stuff, but I have also noticed that if they start pushing and someone just won't budge or actually begins to cry, then they back off. We get attached to all kinds of things for emotional reasons. Sometimes those reasons don't stand the test of time. I'd love to see a "Clean Sweep, Six Months Later" roundup episode to see whether anyone missed all that stuff they got rid of. I suspect they usually don't. Having a lot of clutter around has a cost to it, and most people don't realize how much that is until they're not paying it anymore.
I'm so sorry about your friend. It's very sad.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 04:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 02:54 pm (UTC)In your case, I would take a few digital pictures and sell or donate the CDs.
Sorry to hear about your friend Stephanie. I hope you never have to go through that again.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 04:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 03:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 04:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 03:31 pm (UTC)I'm not very big on mementos, so if they were mine, I doubt I'd keep them. But that doesn't mean that someone else shouldn't.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 04:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 03:51 pm (UTC)It's a lot different than the
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 03:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 09:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 04:00 pm (UTC)If you keep them now, you can always give them away later. But getting rid of them is an irrevocable decision, and I would say, don't do that until you're sure you can live with it.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 04:11 pm (UTC)It's not the same thing, but I'm spring cleaning, and realized that my Secret Lover left some shampoo and a toothbrush. Obviously, the toothbrush can be put to good use cleaning something nasty; but the shampoo I'd just jettisoned in the guest bathroom. Now I'm thinking I just want to chuck it. The less hold he has over me, the better.
My young friend also left some things from when he visited this week. I've never intentionally left things behind, but when you start to know someone, things have a way of transferring ownership. Your lives start to overlap.
About the CDs: do whatever makes you feel best.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 04:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 04:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 04:14 pm (UTC)I would have to think hard about the pain involved in parting with them. If it would be a sharp, temporary thing, like taking off a band-aid, I would sell them and get it over with. Kept in a storage bin in the basement, would I even think of them? On the other hand, if it were going to be a long-lasting thing, or something I feared I'd regret, I would keep them. A little storage space is a small price to pay to avoid that sort of thing.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 04:28 pm (UTC)Clean Sweep = meaningless ego boost for me.
Silly, huh?
(no subject)
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From:i'll take the tangent to the south
Date: 2006-03-27 04:26 pm (UTC)I usually wait until I know for sure on things but that happens in various ways not just me rationally deciding, sometimes it is environmental.
And this is very OT but I like knowing that you still think of her even though the thoughts are bittersweet, or even w/o the sweet. There's so many people and things that I left/let go in the moving years. Once in a while, I try to remember as many as I can and all the good things, also the pieces of me that are different because of them. I know it is weird but I feel like I carry little bits of everyone I've known.
Re: i'll take the tangent to the south
Date: 2006-03-27 04:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 04:31 pm (UTC)Things that belonged to my dad are the biggest. I try not to dwell on the fact that he is dead, but of stuff we did. And times when he enjoyed whatever it is I have. Like his favorite coffee mug I got him for Father's Day, and the first time I made him coffee.
*hugs* I would say do not decide anything until you are sure.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 04:58 pm (UTC)Sometimes there comes a time when I can let something go that I previously would have held onto with white-knuckled fists; sometimes I keep the silliest things for years upon years because I can't imagine them *not* being there, somewhere, should I need them.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 05:13 pm (UTC)So, anyway, I was talking to a neighbor who just had a miscarriage, and she was telling me about how she'd made a memory box, and put her ultrasound pictures, her hospital bracelet (from her D&C) and some other mementos in it. It sounded very appropriate for me (I still have year-old ultrasound photos on my refrigerator). Maybe you could do something like that for Steph. Put the cds in it, plus some pages from your journal, some photos. Then you wouldn't have the dilemma of knowing what to do with the cds. You would have a space approximately the size of a shoebox for all things Steph related. I know you've lost other friends to suicide, too. That's a lot to live with. Seems like a shoebox isn't too large a space for all those feelings. *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 05:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 05:48 pm (UTC)I like Ellameena's idea of a memory box.
Regarding clean sweeps: Before Mom could even pack to move out here, she had to clear out massive amounts of Stuff that had accumulated over only 10 years in the old house. (Didn't help that Mom lives with *her* mom (my Grandma), who saves everything. Closets full of plastic bags. Shelves full of glass jars and coffee cans, empty save for numerous plastic bags.) Mirth stayed with her for two weeks and added extra oomph to the de-clutter-a-thon, because otherwise it would have been the two of them fighting: "This goes!" "This stays!"
Well, now she's in her new place with all the boxes, doing another cull of all the things the movers packed by mistake, of things that she gave up and let Grandma pack to keep the peace, and so forth. She puts things on the Goodwill pile and hears Grandma in her head: "It's perfectly good!"
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 09:41 pm (UTC)She is very, very attached to someone getting use out of everything. This makes sense to me in theory, but sometimes when you've used something for 40 years, it has really served its purpose and can maybe be consigned to the dustbin of history, or just the dustbin. My grandparents did come up with a good use for towels that were worn thin, though: Humane Society loves having them for the animals to lie on and play with. So their friend was happy because she could picture the puppies loving up her old towels.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 06:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 06:37 pm (UTC)I'd keep the CDs. As has been pointed out above, this is not an irreversible decision; it can be revisited when the memories haven't just been stirred up in this particular way.
I'm sorry about Steph.
P.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 08:14 pm (UTC)If you did put the CDs in a box in a basement, what would your reaction be in 10 years to seeing them? Would you be happy for the reminder, or sad?
Not that you can guess how you'll feel in 10 years, but it might be a useful exercise.
Or, do you keep photo albums or scrap books? You could take the cover art and stick it in a photo album, and still get rid of the CDs.
Personally, I would give them away. But then, I'm really on a declutter (http://www.flylady.net) kick right now.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 08:22 pm (UTC)If I were in a serious decluttering mood, I might keep two and find some useful way to give away the others. I'm not sure why it would be two and not just one, but (at least in the abstract) I think it would be two.
(And maybe, if I were feeling symbolic and actually got around to doing such, what I'd do is sell the rest to a used-CD shop, and put the money in an envelope with a small letter and send it to Steph's mother offering the money to be used to buy flowers for Steph's gravesite. If that's something her mother would be likely to like. And if I got around to it, which I quite possibly wouldn't.)
But, then, my house is full of sentimental clutter. I have a truck that on some days I suspect I'm keeping in large part because it was my father's.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 09:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-27 10:48 pm (UTC)I'm so sorry about your friend.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-28 02:48 am (UTC)But then, I don't think "because I want her to be alive and happy" is a bad reason to want to keep something.