Relay: The Big Purge
I never quite realized I was one of those people who loves throwing things out. When I was growing up, I had this relative who enjoyed “chucking” this and that — that’s how she would refer to it. It always seemed so odd to me that she seemed to get a euphoric feeling just by placing something she considered a piece of garbage in the trash. Euphoria might not be quite how I would describe it, but, damn, purging does feel good.
While I am not a fan of clutter, I am a bit nostalgic, so I am a bit surprised by my recent need to get rid of what I just do not need.
In recent weeks, I have been tossing the never used, no longer needed, worn out, meaningless, and downright junky items I seem to have collected over the years. Candles that have become dust collectors, workout gear not part of my routine, and old makeup are just some of the items that have found their way into a Dumpster. I had enough vases, saved from floral deliveries, that I could have started my own flower shop. Why did I hold onto two baskets that would be perfect for an Easter egg hunt if I had children? Shoes that are no longer my style and a mound of T-shirts I received from my various races were all donated, of course.
Despite my lack of abilities and plain disinterest in cooking, the kitchen was a treasure trove of trash: stained potholders and aprons, chipped dishes, a plethora of containers, many without the right-size lids or lids without the right-size containers. I got a bit angry when I came across parts of the ice cream maker, once used. I wanted to give it away to someone who might appreciate it, but with the main container missing, I chucked it. A week later I found the part in the freezer, in plain view.
What about the CD collection? My husband wanted to know. No one listens to CDs anymore, he said. I told him most are classics, mostly ’90s hip-hop. Nas’s “Illmatic” and Lil’ Kim’s “Hard Core” got packed up carefully for our upcoming move. He thinks I will be carrying those boxes.
I have a pile of old letters and cards that I kept for one reason or another. I started paring this down too. It was time for some letters from an old flame to go and also some birthday cards that I couldn’t figure out why I had kept. There were some I couldn’t give up: some notes from my parents, a birthday card from my grandmother (nothing special, but it was the last she sent), a thank-you note from a patient. I came across a nice surprise when I found a card from my friend Amy’s mother that she had sent when my grandmother passed away suddenly. She and I had only met that very weekend, but she was just that kind of lady. I texted Amy a photo of it. “How great is that?” she wrote back. Her mother has been gone six months now.
So, yes, many things remain, but I think I’m getting better at identifying what’s truly meaningful. The rest I can chuck.
Taylor K. Vecsey is The Star’s digital media editor.