Five years ago, I remember sitting in my home office while sorting through large boxes of collectibles, tearfully upset and anxious as I determined their fate.
Each item represented a part of my life or the people I loved dearly; decades of personal keepsakes, all with priceless memories attached. They included pictures of my children, love letters from my past, drawings from my dad, immigration documents from my mother, and even wooden puzzles over a hundred years old.
There were pieces from all over the world, memorabilia from wars fought, and my childhood toys and gifts since birth, each with something meaningful about them, all with wonderful stories.
And it was time to decide whether it would be kept or discarded.
A handful of items that going through the "keep or get rid of" process.
The quest for less.
Before selling our house to travel full-time, I read Packing Light by Allison Vesterfelt, along with other essays about less is more, and I quickly became obsessed with the ideology of minimalism. It all made perfect sense to me!
As Americans, we’ve been indoctrinated to believe stuff will make us happy.
Our desires for consumption and materialism are so strong that we’ve been trapped on a never-ending hamster wheel, relentlessly sprinting to find joy and happiness, yet never realizing we’re killing ourselves in the process.
And rather than spending our time and money on great experiences, we’re throwing it away to accumulate things that will ultimately be sold at a garage sale, donated to a thrift store, inherited by someone we hate, or discarded trash in the city dump.
Damn!!!
So, in this process, I realized the following truths:
All this stuff didn’t make me any happier.
I had been severely depressed for years, some of which was brought on by excessive debt from buying crap we didn’t need or have anymore.
All this stuff couldn’t travel with us.
There’s only so much space in a pickup truck or travel van, so options are limited, and why pay for a huge storage filled with things we won’t need again?
All this stuff doesn’t matter when I die.
In the end, we can’t take it with us, and as already stated, it’s likely to end up on eBay or in the dump.
All this stuff is holding me in bondage.
The mental drain of keeping the special memories alive and protecting these assets was also taking a toll on me. It was time to start letting go.
Dismantling mine and my dad's Army uniforms was a tearful experience, but I can't keep them in a bag forever.
The painful tears of liberation.
So there I was, lamenting amongst dozens of meaningful family artifacts that have been hidden in boxes for decades, that one day will no longer be mine or in my children’s possession, drinking massive amounts of alcohol to deal with the struggle that has now become my life.
Sometimes it was OK, sometimes it was awful.
It started with eliminating stuff I knew we’d no longer need or want, like furniture, decorations, tools, clothes, and household items. This was easy and made us money.
Then we scanned thousands of family photos and documents, saving perhaps a third of them before burning and shredding the rest. There were tears, but we had copies.
Next, we focused on our childhood collectibles; some we donated or sold, but the most important ones were placed in buckets for later. We did the same with our kids’ toys.
Finally, we had to focus on family heirlooms and keepsakes, with some being easier to say goodbye to, while others we refused to let go of. This was the most painful part!
But each time we went through the process and purge (and our mood swings), we noticed how lighter we felt, as if heavy burdens were being lifted off our shoulders, and interestingly, we also became much happier.
Over the years, I have discovered I neither miss nor want any of those items back!
There’s never been a day of regret or sadness for letting those things go, and in fact, I wonder why we never started that process decades ago. I have felt truly free from those burdens and appreciate life so much more now.
However, we still have some unfinished business.
The final purge.
When we left Oklahoma in the summer of 2020, we had no clue how long we’d travel or if things would work out long-term for our adventure. What if we ended up hating the road life?
We decided to save some household items like our bed, a few pieces of furniture, some tools, and about 25 buckets of sentimental keepsakes we weren’t ready to part with, and put them in a 10 x 15 storage unit. Given that we downsized from a four-bedroom house, two-car garage, and a shed filled with stuff, we still felt pretty good.
However, with no plans to quit our adventure soon, and $5,000 worth of storage fees down the drain, it’s time to make the final purge.
A couple of months ago, we started the process again, this time by donating a few boxes of clothes and other stuff, and by taking an even bigger step — selling my entire G.I. Joe collection, part of my toys that were the center of my universe. Within 12 hours of posting it on a collector’s Facebook page, every piece was sold, regardless of whether it was in great condition or broken, netting me $800 in sales.
More stuff to go through and sell.
The last few days, I’ve been taking dozens of photos, getting ready to sell the last bit of collectibles, comic books, and antiques left to my name. Aside from a few buckets of things I’m leaving to my kids, there is no more time or space for it in my life.
Is this hard for me to do?
Yes and no!
On one hand, there’s tremendous guilt because my parents gave me a huge collection of amazing memorabilia that they amassed over their lives, and in 30 years of marriage, and there are the gifts they worked so hard to provide me with as a child. It doesn’t feel right at its core.
On the other hand, it seems foolish to waste money on storing boxes of stuff that we can’t enjoy or may never have out again in the future. Not to mention, any extra cash we make by selling it all can be used for another hopeful and big purchase we intend to make in the next few weeks.
And let’s be real, we ain’t getting any younger!
I have watched numerous family members, including myself, deal with the unexpected and tragic deaths of loved ones, who then have to endure the hardships of settling the estates and funeral details of those they have lost. From personal experience, I highly recommend taking care of your end-of-life details before it’s too late. Don’t leave the broken pieces for your family members to pick up. It’s horrible to experience.
When I emerge from this last effort, I hope that all that’s left are the most important items, and no more than can fill the large toy box my dad built for me as a child.
Maybe it seems too compulsive or too early in my life to do, but the stress and unhappiness it now brings me is more than I want to carry.
I can’t speak for Donetta and what her plans are, though we are mostly aligned, but I’ve learned that when I push, it doesn’t end up well for me. LOL!
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