Home (bitter)sweet home

Vigilant readers may have noticed a decline in posts on The Adult Orphan in recent times. When I started this blog, I had grand intentions of posting every two weeks. Isn’t it funny how life gets in the way of death?

My absence has not been through lack of anything to say (the reflections have been flowing freely), but due to a distinct lack of time because of moving home.

Scroll down for my pointers on decluttering and moving house.

I hate moving. Mum and I were huge hoarders; traumatised by the thought of throwing away sentimental belongings, yet achieving odd satisfaction from ‘using things up and throwing them away’ (our lipstick collections were a treasure trove of both decadence and ritualistic cleansing). But when it comes to moving home, hoarding = chaos. Never more than for the singleton dragging her past around with her in a vain attempt to not forget.

So with each move that I make, each clear-out, each packing sesh, my past is dredged up and, with it, memories of our life together.

I was living with my mum at the time that she died, having returned to the family nest just months before. Call that lucky or unlucky, I’ve yet to fathom it myself. So I had not one but two homes to clear out, pack up and move on.

That is a lot of stuff.

Needless to say, when I got kicked out by the council, I invested in a storage space for the stuff I couldn't justify moving around with me, but still simply cannot bear to part with. Which was, and continues to be, expensive. But is an investment the ‘homeless’ adult orphan must make in order to secure a past for her future.

In six years I have moved six times and my new home as of next week (fingers and toes crossed please) will be my seventh. It’s exhausting. And whilst each holding place has provided rich learning experiences, which has in turn helped shape the person I am today, if I don’t chuck some things away each time, the transitional experience itself is heavy. Literally.

I don’t buy very many things. I’m not a materialistic person and favour experiences over possessions. Give me a tropical yoga retreat over a fancy car, beautiful furniture and designer clothes any day. So how have I ended up with so much STUFF?! Beats me. All of that sentimental overflow, I guess. Like mother, like daughter. Which means I retain a sense of my past through my unintentional, inherited habits.

But with me follows a beautiful shadow in the form of a selection of my mum’s belongings which I continue to put to good use. Her CD collection. Her Tupperware. Her pajamas (sounds creepy, but whatever… they were bought the week she died and remained unworn). Her books on psychology. Her elephant ornament. Her photos of us on endless day trips when I was a kid.

Yet, with each move, and each sort-through, I pluck up the courage to shed a little physical baggage. Only when it feels right. I wonder if when I reach 50 I will have anything of hers left at all. Or if I will bring out the clothes and jewellery from her fifties that I’ve kept safe.

So are there any take-away points for other adult orphans out there who may be drowning in their own and parents’ belongings?

If you can, invest in a storage space (or borrow some attic space from a friend/family member).

Don’t throw anything out without careful consideration. If your heart is attached in anyway, wait for another day when it might feel ready.

Every year, schedule a spring clean and see if anything can be moved to a different place or got rid of completely.

But don’t hang onto everything out of fear. Some stuff is going to have to go. It’s impossible to hang on to everything and your parents wouldn’t want to see you overburdened with their lifetime of possessions.

Place a few of their things around the home or at least put a photo up, when you’re ready.

If they had huge collections of certain things (Mum's vice was cushions), keep one and take a photo of the rest.

Can paintings and large photos you want to keep but not display be decanted out of their frames and rolled up?

When you live with someone else and they share your belongings – including those that belonged to your parents – be prepared for them to get lost, broken or, if you go your separate ways, taken away with them. If anything is of significant value, store away in a safe place for another time.

But don’t be afraid to use their things. Give them love and a second chance at life. Then when they’re all used up and ready for retirement, let them go, knowing that you both got good use out of each other in the absence of their original owner.

You may find that home doesn't feel so sweet without them in it. But you can bring a little of them with you, every time you move. Welcome them into your new space by talking out loud as you find homes for yours and their things. Do it together.

Right, wish me luck! Onto the next chapter and whatever it may bring...