It's been nine months since dad died and I think I am ready to talk about what for our generation (the 40 to 60 crowd) is terrorizing them in their sleep. If you still have parents alive and they grew up during the depression (or close to it), every time you visit you notice it….and you sweat about it….you know this monster is going to keep growing and one day it is going to get you. Some of you may ignore it because you have a sibling that will take care of it – you aren't going to give it another thought. The optimistic amongst you think that your parents will get around to taming the beast. But for those of you like me, the ones that know this isn't going away, you are getting cold shivers down your spine as I talk about this.
Yes, it is your nightmare – cleaning out your parent's house. How much stuff can people collect in 52 years of marriage, 79 and 77 years of life collectively? You don't even want to know. How long will it take you to clean this out? Six weeks of 12 hour days without stopping for a meal until supper time. What will you do with it all? Shred 48 banker boxes, fill one industrial size dumpster to the absolute top (thank you Robin/Howie!), take 24 full car loads to the Goodwill, take 2 full loads to the electronic waste disposal, put out junk by the side of the road and watch people actually stop and take it, sort the recyclables and find a friend to take 3 truckloads full to the depot, put the garbage out every week and PRAY that they will take it all. And you still won't be done.
Who knew that the generation that never wanted to waste anything would end up being so wasteful. And who knew that when they said to you in your younger years, “One day this will all be yours,” they were serious! They just didn't add, “this will all be your……problem.”
I can tell you that there was one happy angel hovering over me the whole time. I could hear dad saying, “thank god I didn't have to clean up that mess”, a mess he created. What do you get when you combine two hoarders with one of them being obsessive compulsive? You get one f*&*ing FULL house, with everything neatly stored in cupboards, drawers, closets, underneath beds, corners – every available space used to maximum capacity. And I mean maximum. My mother is the queen of folding and reducing things to the tiniest possible size for storage. What one person fits in ten drawers, mom could fit in one.
It's amazing how after nine months I can still bring up the event like it is still happening. That's because it still haunts me. Minimalist me has always dreaded that I would have to deal with someone's else's stuff. I can't just throw it away – my parents brought me up with the value that you don't waste. So there I am sorting through things, finding the stuff that can be given away and recycling when possible. At the same time you have to read enough to know whether this can be recycled or should it be shredded for privacy sake.
Here's some advice – sort/shred now! Your children don't need to know that much about you, nor do you want your children to know that much about you, unless you know a therapist that needs some business sent their way. Just make sure you leave the name of the therapist in an easy to find location.
How do you get through this? You wake up every morning, smile, pretend you are an archaeologist at a major dig, roll up your sleeves and get to work, have a system for sorting and clear out the sorted items each day. That's the practical. What really helps you get through this is that big glass of wine every night and the fact that you are so physically exhausted you will sleep like a baby.
I can look back at this now and realize that this would make a great reality show. It could be a spin-off from Hoarders. If any of you know someone in the tv show business that I could pitch this to, let me know. I could even host the show and maybe call it the “Junk Whisperer”. Who knows, maybe I could save someone from this fate. In the meantime if you are in this boat and need some concrete advice, let me know, I am happy to share my knowledge or at least a glass of wine.
Good luck!
