“I ain’t never seen a hearse with a luggage rack.”–George Strait, “You’ll Be There”

Gail and I were talking on the phone this morning, and the topic switched to our stuff.

“I have so much stuff,” she said. “If something happened to me, there would be so much stuff for someone to deal with. You guys could just come and take what you want.”

We acknowledged that this was a morbid thought, but then, we know morbid. We can talk about it because we know it is reality.

By the way, Suzanne is intentionally left out of this discussion because she has it figured out: she is a minimalist, Gail and I are not. Not by a long shot–but we are aware of it, and that is the best place to start.

I have been in hundreds of homes in my home health career. Some are minimal, most are not. Most are average, some are cluttered, some are hoarded. I also had a short-term gig helping an online estate auction company prepare several estates for auction. Between home health and these estates, I have seen enough to keep me hyper-aware of the issue of stuff.

When our parents died, they had it together for us. They moved off the farm in 2000, and pared down to only the essentials. They moved into a small house in town, so eight years later when they died, we had only these essentials to deal with. I am so grateful for that, as it is a difficult job no matter what, but they made it as easy as possible.

We didn’t grow up with a lot of stuff, there was no need and no extra money for it. We made do with what we had, but now that we are adults and able to decide what to surround ourselves with in our respective homes, Gail and I populate our space with much more stuff than Suzanne does.

My much-more-minimal-than-me husband tore into his closet this morning, getting rid of clothes and shoes he no longer wears. I need to take a cue from him, because I am well aware of my ridiculously large wardrobe. To add to that, I went to Kansas City this weekend, and oops! I accidentally bought some more clothes. I meant only to make a dent in my Christmas shopping, but there were these cute pants, and that sweater, well, it had my name all over it, so those items–plus a few more–found their way home with me.

So, in accordance with the “one in, one out” policy I have tried to follow, I have work to do.

It seems if I just get started, the good feeling of getting rid of stuff grows, and I want to keep going. I just need to start.

It helps me to think about the good I can do with my stuff if I simply donate it. Several places that welcome these treasures, and that make me feel good about purging them include:

*Our local domestic violence shelter. Many of these women–and some men, too–arrive literally with only the clothes on their back.

*The animal shelter welcomes used towels and blankets. (No pillows, please, as dogs will chew them up.)

*The small bottles of hotel toiletries are a godsend to the homeless shelters or the food bank.

*Non-perishable food that has sat in your pantry that has not yet expired is welcomed at the food bank.

*Gail takes her old shower curtains to a friend who sews them into pillowcases for her worn-out pillows, creating water-proof patio cushions.

*When her plants begin to make a jungle in her home, Gail shares the bounty with others.

*We all three take advantage of online selling options, including local Buy-Sell-Trade sites, Facebook Marketplace, eBay and Poshmark. We aren’t magnanimous enough yet to donate all those profits, but maybe someday…

*I read a great suggestion the other day: many people shop for Christmas toys second-hand. However, most of us tend to clean out the toy closet and donate them after Christmas when the new ones come in, but doing it before helps so many people.

*Most of us, Gail and I included, have too many holiday decorations. Taking a hard look at them every year when they come out and deciding of they still mean as much to you as they once did is a good task. Someone else may love them much more than you do.

I don’t have any pictures of our stuff, I’m not ready to share any at this point, and neither is Gail.

We do have an idea to share: in our phone conversation, we are both considering this challenge: at the beginning of the month, on the first, get rid of one thing. On the second, get rid of two things. On the third, three things…You get this idea. This adds up to several hundred things by the end of the month. December first is not far off…

Gail and I tend to be more sentimentally attached to things; we are a bit over-stuffed. But we both want to be more like Suzanne when we grow up.