Clump #252: Deliver walker to friend; day ten of National Blog Posting Month.
Today I faced a Clump A Day dilemma. For those wonderful followers who have been reading here for a long time, you know that I went through a sad de-clumping of a lot of my parents’ stuff when my father passed away. One thing I had been meaning to give to charity was the walker my father had used. If the test of what to keep and what to give away is whether the item is useful to you and/or brings a smile to your face, this walker would fail both, spectacularly. My dad embodied the opposite of everything this walker symbolized. He was powerful, fit, and independent almost until the end. The darn thing was a big clunky, sadness-evoking clump of metal. You know what I’m talking about; you don’t need a picture. Instead, I’ll brighten the vibe with photos of pink out in the autumnal landscape, a color more associated with Spring, but there you go.
So why in the world was this walker still in our basement? I had been avoiding it for the reasons above: too painful. But today I was conferring with a friend about helping out another friend who had been in an accident and needed a walker. “Uhh, I think I still have the one that belonged to my father.” And off it went. No searching around for one, or renting … boom. Done.
So what is the moral of the story? It pays to procrastinate? Save all your clutter for the day someone might need it? This experience makes a real argument for that approach. I have to give credit to my older daughter, who, when I posed the question, “What is the counter-argument?” said, “The counter-argument is: do you keep everything in case someone might need it one day?” Right! We are not running a store.
I took this (blurry) photo in a big, rambling hardware store this summer. A store that sells everything. Even when the express purpose of your enterprise is to outfit someone else’s needs, organizing all the stuff is a big challenge.
I’m telling myself that I will still have the wonderful moment of giving someone just what they need,
but not because I have held onto it beyond its welcome to me.
You touch me at my core, Judy. Over and over.
Big hugs to you! Thank you!!