Back in April I posted about helping my parents house hunt and promised to talk about adventures in moving at a later time. Well, I'm making good on that promise. I've recently returned from helping my parents move out of their New York house and brought them across the country to move into their new house in Washington State. At the time of this writing, my parents are staying at my house while waiting for their moving truck to soon arrive with all their furniture and other worldly possessions.
A big part of moving, as those of you in the military will attest, is deciding which things to keep and which things have to go. This part was especially difficult for my father, who has a tendency to keep more things than he should (like over a dozen pill boxes--don't ask). However, if you're downsizing from a bi-level house to a single level, getting rid of things you no longer need is essential.
Helping my father sort through his belongings and part with unnecessary things was a lot like Swedish death cleaning (and of course, I had to read Margareta Magnusson's The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning in the middle of the move). If you ask me, the Swedes have the right idea--clean and get rid of your unneeded stuff as you go through life so someone doesn't have to clean up your junk after you're gone. Not only does this make your house less cluttered and more organized for you now, it also makes it easier on the person settling your affairs later, leaving a good last impression of you. After all, no one wants to be remembered for being a hoarder, right?
Along the lines of Swedish death cleaning, I helped my father toss or donate quite a few things that were taking up space for far too long. Bills that were paid in the '90s, a number of key chains, 8-track tapes of polka music, clothes that weren't worn in ages or no longer fit. Items that are still being used and sentimental things, like family photographs, were naturally kept. It was a rather intense process, but well worth it and one I highly recommend for everyone at every age. I'm proud of my father for having done so well with cleaning out his things. Now, if I can only get him to part with a few of those pill boxes he insisted on keeping...
Wishing you happy death cleaning from the perch.
