For most of us, downsizing becomes, it seems, one of life's necessities - that is, if one has lived long enough, been in one house for a long period of time, and has decided to move for any of a variety of reasons - either into smaller quarters of one's own, into some limited arrangement with children, into a residential unit in a retirement community, into rooms or an apartment in a continuing care facility offering various levels of medical assistance, etc.
In my opinion, all moving is difficult - and many of us have experienced the multiple problems encountered during various moves over the years - moves requiring clearing out and rearranging. The worst scenarios seem to involve distance moves, moves from one style of living to another, closing out an entire house no longer appropriate. Invariably, there is stress. This normal stress of moving is invariably compounded and complicated by the downsizing process necessary when special considerations surface, among them: "the house is too big" ... "handling stairs is no longer an option" ... "help isn't always available" ... "it's too expensive to run a house these days" ... "the furniture is much too big for the apartment" ... " the kids don't want anything - they have their own things" ... "that chair should stay in the family."
Realizing how overwhelming downsizing can be for seniors, many retirement communities and other senior-directed organizations conduct sessions on the "how to" aspects of downsizing. Lecture halls fill up with seniors who have been empty nesters for a long time, who have accumulated paraphernalia galore during their lifetimes and don't know where to begin to eliminate. To lighten the burden, there are people for hire available to conduct yard sales, onsite auctions, as well as advisors concerning how and where to dispose of excess furnishings, including precious antiques on the one hand, and items directed to a designated charity on the other. There's considerable literature and plenty of help out there - especially for a fee. However, the downsizing senior soon learns that there is no "one-size-fits-all" solution to the situation; every household requires an individual evaluation to avoid mistakes and the inevitable, "I wish I hadn't sold it - I wish I still had it - I sure miss it" syndrome, or, for that matter, the "Why did I keep it? - It doesn't look right here" conclusion. All the assistance and lectures aside, in the end, the decisions generally revert to the senior who is moving.
And they are tough decisions. Frequently, a lifetime of history is involved. In a way, it's akin to tossing out, discarding life. Some people are very successful, look forward to getting rid of "the old" and starting all over - while others can't face the tasks involved, can't dispose of anything and tend to procrastinate. Take the output of a successful career of a deceased loved one - tossing out all the memorabilia and accolades simulates throwing a life away. One cherishes the memories involved, "can't bear to part with" the artifacts involved. As for furniture and home furnishings, sure it's all "things" - but some "things" talk, tell stories, are remembrances of special occasions, happy events. Recalling and even dwelling on happy events is uplifting.
Then, take books. For many, they are friends. One just doesn't discard old friends. Furthermore, if they're not visible on shelves, will the mind always be able extract their titles and the details within them from the depths of an increasingly aging and probably frail memory? And that's just a sampling.
Over the years, faced with moves and the necessity of disposing of things, to simplify the task, here are three questions I've learned to ask myself when considering whether to keep or to toss.
Do I love it? Does it have some special meaning to me? In this category go many selected items: books, photographs, paintings, travel literature, old letters, theatre programs, gifts - as well as special furnishings, ones that tell a story or have been handed down in the family or reflect love.
Is it necessary? In part, this is the nuisance department. It includes looking into filed records of household expenses, income tax returns, purchase receipts, estate settlements and house sale closings - and the important matters need to be separated from the throw away items, a thankless task. Also involved is taking a hard look at home furnishings: how many lamps, sets of bedding, linens, television sets, telephones, sets of china, glassware, flatware, etc., are going to be needed?
Is it valuable? Here's where experts sometimes need to be called in. Or research has to be undertaken. This can be exceedingly time-consuming, but can return dividends. Recently, I saw some fine European ceramics offered in a specialty auction by a top American auction house; a friend had examples of these ceramics and wanted to evaluate them. On the internet, we looked up the post-auction sales prices to conclude that the prices achieved were surprisingly low and that the objects - hand-painted and beautifully figured vases, pitchers, cups, platters, etc. - would probably do better in a sale directed to the foreign market.
And, having said all this, I confess that as much as I admire people who have successfully downsized, and in so doing, have simplified their lives, and as much as I enjoy visiting in a barebones, clutter-free atmosphere, which can result from serious downsizing, I am invariably fascinated, as I was recently, in a setting where excess everything dominates - including floor-to-ceiling paintings, plants, photographs, objets d'art - all amid a hodge-podge of overstuffed furniture.
As I remarked to my hostess, who had a story to tell about every object, "One could never get bored here."
And what did she say?
"You should have seen my other place!"
Downsizing is relative.
