Illustration by Christine
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I’ve spent a whole year finding new homes for the oodles of “stuff” I have accumulated over the years. I’ve been selling off and giving away furniture, books, dishes … so many things. Like so many boomers, I’ve been decluttering.
I sold my condo. I remarried. You know … boomer activity. But I’m not just getting rid of things … I am receiving things, too. I have had so many encounters with interesting people who want my stuff and have surprising stories, sweet stories, poignant stories, even funny stories. These people have been generous with their thanks and surprisingly open with little flashes about their lives and what they hope to do with their new treasure.
I’ve met real characters, both at their homes and mine as they come with their truck and their ropes – and their dreams and their hopes. Like the elderly, gaunt man who pulled up to pick up a large book case. There was no one with him to help with lifting. Don’t worry he assured me, “I can’t stand and I can’t walk, but I can do this. I do it all the time.” Sure enough, in the driveway outside my urban condo, he hobbled to the back of his truck and tossed that book case into the back, grinned at me … secured it with ropes and hobbled back to his driver’s seat. “Thanks a lot, lady,“ he said as he waved and drove away.
Sometimes we delivered our furniture if the new owners had no way to retrieve it. We drove our fancy dining chairs to an older couple who live in the suburbs. The bureau and wardrobe we delivered to the next town to a widow who said she was “starting over” and thought the furniture was just what she needed. She was right. There was no other furniture in her tiny studio apartment to hold any of her possessions. Everything she owned was stacked on the stove, the kitchen counters and the sofa. Medications, dishes, clothes. Even her dog lay atop piles on the sofa. She just beamed as we inched the bureau beside her bed. “That’ll do it,” she said. “Now finally I can put my clothes away.” We drove home, sobered by her humble situation and plucky stance. Our modest home felt like a palace that night.
The woman who bought our ornate balcony bistro set brought a truck and ropes, too. “This is for my boyfriend” she said. “He doesn’t know he needs it yet, but he will. He’s my first boyfriend in 40 years.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t know what hit me,” she continued unasked. “I’ve been with women all my life.” “Wish me luck,” she said as she drove away.
And just when I thought all the selling and giving stuff away had come to an end, we found more “treasures” in our storage room this week. We sighed, and went back to the computer, back to locating yet another good home for these vintage embroidered fabrics. Sure enough, we found them a home. A father and his three spritely young daughters arrived at a pre-arranged time. I invited them into our condo lobby and placed the fabrics on a coffee table to let them see and select. The dad clearly valued quality fabrics and recognized fine workmanship. The girls bubbled with enthusiasm. They asked questions about the fabrics, they posed ideas on how to use them. We agreed they could take all of them away. Three happy girls skipped out the door with their new (and my old) wares after giving me a wave, a hug and a handshake.
I gave away so many goods but their new owners gave me interesting stores and good memories. That’s a sweet reciprocity in my estimation. Downsizing really does have its upsides.
Deanna Hutchings lives in Victoria.
