Over the last several months, my siblings and I have been
clearing out my mom's house, and getting mom settled into a new apartment. It
has been an all-out effort by all of us. Mom was actually very quick to decide
what to take with her to the new flat. Until we came to the kitchen. Drawer after drawer, mom needed it. From the
wacky looking spatula thingy that is actually an egg white beater to the
Tupperware Jell-o mold with interchangeable centers - Christmas tree, heart,
Easter chick, St Patrick's Day shamrock, and I can't remember the July Fourth
center. She actually had two sets of the
Tupperware.
No. I'm serious. Two sets.
Mom tells me, as she mournfully watches me discard 3 of her
potato peelers (at least one of which is from the 60s and so dull I doubt it
could shave butter let alone a cucumber), that she always wanted a complete
kitchen because her mother "never had one". Besides, she insists, her
three 2-quart saucepans, as well as her 4-quart, 1-quart, and 6-quart, are all
Good Pans. Same with her frying pans, saucier, and Corning Ware
casseroles. She has a drawer full of
strainers, another of measuring cups, and another drawer with potholders from
when she moved into the Wehawken Road house. In 1965. The orange, brown and
autumn gold are back in style, so no point changing those out.
Of course, every time I drove away from her house, I said,
"I'm going straight home and throw crap out." Then parked my car, set
down a box that held the egg-white beater and a pie dish, and turned on the TV.
Because the emotions of disbanding my mom's house is exhausting. So exhausting
that I also have one set of the Tupperware Jell-O molds because it was hidden
in the cake carrier I brought home with me. The cake carrier reminded me of
Wednesday Night church suppers and family birthday parties. We didn't have
Facebook, we had every item in mom's kitchen to remind us of life events. The
harvest gold fondu pot. The cookie sheets. The cheeseboard.
Yeah. It will come as no surprize that I have trouble
separating the gift from the giver or the item from the event. And every trip that I make to the thrift
store feels like a victory. (and I have to do it quickly or the item gets piled
up in the corner, because I might need it/sell it/gift it).A friend told me that my father's passions (his books, tools, musical instruments) didn't have to become mine, and nor does my mother's need to have a complete kitchen. Because, let's be honest, if I ever have to beat egg whites, do you seriously think I'll be doing that by hand?
Do you have a difficult time de-cluttering or letting go of
clutter? Or are you one of those who can live a Spartan existence where too
many possessions would be more than 20 items of clothing, a chair, a bed, a
toothbrush and a TV? If that's the case, tell me your secret? Because you much
have superpowers.