As I sort and toss and pack, I wonder, “Has that always looked so bad?” Yesterday, this thought came because of the breadbox which I’ve had for probably twenty years. It’s dirty and just plain ugly. Yes, I could wash it but ugly can’t be fixed. Also, I no longer eat much bread, certainly not enough to take up a few feet of counter space. George did. He liked different flavors of bread. But not me. It’s in the back of the car to take to Goodwill in case they believe it’s salvageable.
Perhaps finding old stuff that has gradually become unsightly is a way of telling us, “Hey, you’re getting old” or nagging us, “Time to move on.”
Many years ago, we were attempting to sell our house. We’d had the sofa for a long time and knew the fabric underneath and concealing the springs had torn and brushed against the carpet. Probably a cat had enjoyed pulling herself along with that. For whatever reason, the dangling cloth didn’t bother us. It DID bother the real estate agent. As soon as he walked in, he said, “Get rid of that sofa.” I asked, “Won’t the room look odd without it?” He said, “Not as bad as it does now.”
And perhaps that’s a positive outcome of a move: we can get rid of the stuff that shows wear, that reminds us time is passing but also reminds us for a few minutes of good memories.