The theory of downsizing is a beautiful thing.
The reality of it is something else entirely, as I have learned in the past week.
There are multiple factors that play into my love/hate relationship with downsizing. The first and primary one being that having a broken leg has limited my mobility to such a degree that I was unable to do any purging before we moved from our home of 17 years in Lafayette to a much smaller one in Baton Rouge.
Perhaps moving is a bit like childbirth — time allows you to forget how difficult the experience is and you consider doing it again?
In fact, the move has been hard (and continues to be hard as hither-and-yon boxes scattered around one’s home do not mix well with mobility issues). There have also been some interesting and wonderful things the move has taught us:
We do not need to buy toothpaste for quite some time. Apparently, somewhere along the way, I went too far on the Amazon Subscribe and Save when it comes to Aquafresh toothpaste. I believe we have nine tubes.
We are in the same Subscribe-and-Save boat with Dawn dishwashing detergent. As my daughter said, “We have enough Dawn to save all the animals along the Alaskan coast if there was a major oil spill.”
I cannot blame Subscribe and Save on the number of platters and bowls we have. (I take responsibility for the platters and lay blame toward my husband for the bowls.)
There is only so much weight a closet’s hanger bar can hold. (Ask me how I know.)
Having friends who will come to your rescue to not only pack your dishes and other bits and bags, but also to unpack them (and therefore seeing/discussing your aforementioned collection of toothpaste, dishwashing detergent, platters and bowls) is a gift. I am not sure what I have done to deserve these friendships, but I will remain grateful for the rest of my life.
Being with friends to do tasks like figure out where all the glasses will go or to figure out where we put the clothes after a closet rod fails can be fun.
When a closet rod fails, you find things — like your daughter’s karate outfit from when she was 4 years old. She is now 20.
If everything was like our pewter butter dish, life would be easier. My husband just informed me that it was picked up from our Lafayette home’s counter, wrapped with plastic, traveled across the Atchafaylaya and Mississippi River, placed on our new home’s counter in Baton Rouge — and we used the butter on bread last night for dinner.
On the other hand, we have yet to find the elusive box that contains all of our flatware. In the meantime, we are making do and have high hopes of finding it and a few other essentials today.
Much to our surprise, we have discovered that we have an old friend on our new street. We go way back with her. Not only was she previously a friend in Lafayette, but her family is originally from El Paso, Texas, where my husband grew up. He has known them for decades. This wonderful woman brought us comfort food for the first few nights in our new home — she also brought the spoons and forks to go with the food as she knew we had yet to find our own.
Finally, in the flower bed just outside our new front door, green leaves from bulbs below the surface are emerging. I look forward to see what flowers they hold.
Moving at spring is a wonderful metaphor. I am grateful for the new life ahead.