Stuff of Substance

Just shy of a year ago, we sold or gave away the contents of our home. Belongings that we’d accumulated after living together since the dawn of time. Or the year 2000, if you like to be specific about things. Where does one start to disassemble a home? At the arse end of somewhere, working room by room, I discovered. In order to start the great purge of personal property, I began by creating a series of little piles. Divided into things that could go. And things that we absolutely had to keep. Up until this point, I had never considered myself a sentimental type. No cuddly toy has ever made its way on to my bed and I simply can’t bring myself to put my kids faces on any key-ring, mug or godforbid any bag or t-shirt. What I wanted to keep were items like our wedding invitation, photos from when we were unwrinkled and unhinged teenagers, address books, certificates, books. Stuff of substance - an oxymoron of perfect description.

I started sifting through the little bits that filled our drawers and storage cupboards. Things that quickly tally to reflect a life lived. University essays, textbooks, letters from friends, recipes. The funniest thing happened. My ‘to keep’ pile grew and my 'to go’ pile remained a modest jumble of old birthday cards, larney perfume bottles and beaded costume jewellery that seemed a good idea at the time. As our departure date loomed, the ‘to keep’ pile kept growing while the ‘to go’ pile remained dwarfed alongside it.

The tenants moving into our house asked the agent if they were able to bring forward their move-in date. My husband agreed. Ever the optimist, he knew we’d do it. We’d be out in time. I, on the other hand, had a mini meltdown. Instead of acknowledging the hysteria that bubbled under the surface, I did what I do in any time of crisis. I pretended it wasn’t happening. I clenched my jaw and focused instead on channeling my anxiety into sorting my piles. I began by laying out the six suitcases that we were taking for clothing, linen and everything else alongside all my ‘to keep’ piles. I then started to pack. Those cases filled up very quickly and yet my ‘to keep’ piles remained a towering eyeful. Stubborn bastards. I re-shuffled and lobbed more on to the ‘to go’ pile. And then a little more. My efforts were futile though. I realised I was never going to fit everything in. I was never going to be able to take it all with us. I sat back on my heels and looked at those six suitcases with the pieces of four lives around them and it hit me. It wasn’t the stuff I was clinging to at all. It wasn’t Gabriella’s first blanket or the card that Tim’s colleagues made for Ollie when he was in hospital. What I was so frantically trying to protect was home. Our happy place. And all the memories that those pieces of life came to represent. I did the ugly cry as I packed away all of our treasures, bidding a final farewell to our physical links to the past. My ‘to go’ pile started to grow. Eventually there was one pile. 13 year’s worth of bits and bobs. Stuff of substance that I was finally ready to let go.

We’ve lived for a year now in a house with furniture that is not ours, in an unfamiliar place in a different country. We’ve slowly started to acquire new pieces of life. New stuff of substance. Oliver’s certificates from school, his prized artwork and projects. Gabriella’s first artistic explorations. And then there is the other paraphernalia – toys, bikes, prams, scooters, kitchenware, clothing, tools. We move in two weeks to a new home. We’ve spent the last six weeks acquiring furniture of our own. It has been an exciting process starting to assemble the items that will go into our new space. I’ve learnt this past year that home really is where you make it. And geography has little to do with it. I’ve learnt too that you keep your memories in your heart. And lastly I’ve discovered despite my protestations to the contrary, I am in fact a sentimental sap. The biggest woosy sentimental old hag. And you know what? That’s perfectly ok. There are worse things to be.

The start of a our new home.