Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.
Today we have a beautiful contribution from SimpleBean, who shares a poignant reflection on what matters most in life.
SimpleBean writes:
This month, my grandparents decided to move to an assisted living facility. My grandfather’s brother, my great-uncle, also decided to gracefully end his losing battle with chronic illness by entering hospice. I traveled to see all three of them and start saying my goodbyes: to my great-uncle, mainly, but also to both of my grandparents’ homes. To say that my family is experiencing loss at this time would be a bit of an understatement.
The death of my kind, gentle, wise great-uncle hits home to me that the most precious thing we have in this life is the people we love. Of all of the things that we have or experience, people alone are irreplaceable. My heart breaks for my grandfather, my great-aunt, my cousins, and my extended family as a whole. My family will keep his legacy and love with us. We simply no longer have the joy of seeing or hearing him.
This great loss dwarfs the other losses of my grandparents, but those are real, too. My grandparents will lose the little bit of independence that they have clung to since my grandmother experienced a catastrophic stroke many years ago. My grandfather has been depended on to perform all of the daily acts of living for both of them. Now, he can no longer pick himself up off the floor when he falls, let alone my grandmother. They will enter a facility in which their basic needs will be more than met and they will live in a beautiful one-bedroom apartment. However much they may look forward to, they will leave much behind. My grandfather, a carpenter, designed and built both of his homes himself and, until recently, carried out all of the work and maintenance on them. The walls echo with the memory of distant voices: three children, then two grandchildren, then five great-grandchildren, most of whom are now too old to sit in their laps.
These homes were never messy, but they are still bursting with items that hold memories and happiness. Most of these things will now need to go somewhere else: to the estate sale, or various basements, or charity. As my grandfather stood in one of his homes for the last time, he ran his hand across a simple yet beautiful coat rack: “I made this, you know.” He surveyed his spotless oak kitchen cabinets, his carefully-selected dining room furniture, the light fixtures he took such care to install himself. He held back the tears and silently witnessed the special space he had created for his later years. I asked him, “Grandpa, is there anything there that is your very favorite, that you want to make sure makes it into your new place?” He answered me, “I can’t even begin to choose. Everything here is something I love.”
Their sadness made me reflect on how I want to live out the end of my own life, and I was startled by my own revelation. I don’t ever want to have to say goodbye to so many things. It is a blessing but also an intense sadness, to let go of things that have been tasked to hold so many memories. I acknowledge that I will be forced to say goodbye to so many people at the end of my life; why would I want to compound that sadness by having strong attachments to things? Maybe it’s unavoidable – maybe a life well lived does cause one to accumulate so many items that create happiness, and maybe I will be unable to avoid the suffering of that particular letting go. Maybe I’m just angry that the houses my grandfather loves, and his attachment to them, have slowly drained his energy and vitality, and I secretly fear that his need to stay independent has almost killed him. Maybe it’s just that I’m a different person and I value other things more. But I know in my heart that I would like to someday do it a different way for myself. It strengthens my own resolve to be very careful and deliberate in what I accumulate in my own life.
After all, what my great-uncle took with him this week – the love and respect of all the people he touched, and the dignity of a life well lived – is incalculably more valuable than all of the things that he left behind. Here’s hoping that we all continue to accumulate what matters most.
{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}
This is an especially beautiful piece — thank you so much.
What a touching, poignant reminder that the “trappings” of life can indeed weight us down. When my father died years after my mother had, he left a home FULL of “things” -which he could no longer even enjoy as he had full-blown dementia. My brother and I were the “beneficiaries.” And as a person who ascribes to Voluntary Simplicity, even I had a time letting go. Just a few months ago, I had Habitat pick up a chair that I remember from my childhood. What a release I felt. It had taken way too long. The memories remain intact-they are in my heart.
Thank you for your story and let it be a reminder to us all that the more we own, the more it owns us.
Such a beautiful, yet truly sad story. I have often thought about the attachment to things as an issue that I wanted to get a handle on (overcome) before it got to the point of me having an entire house full of things that I felt I couldn’t live without. I have been slowly trying to eliminate the things that I know I don’t need and can live without, so that when I am gone from this life, the only material things left from my life will be meaningful things that my loved ones may keep to remember me by, things that really represented me, and not just the “fantasy me.” I’ve never been a hoarder or anything like that, but I do still have more “stuff” than I would like to leave for my loved ones to have to sort through after I’m gone, so I figure that I can do the sorting and discarding/donating while I am alive, and it removes that chore from others later on.
It sounds like your grandfather has created a lovely life, having designed and built those homes himself, and he has put a lot of himself into those homes, so I cannot even imagine how difficult it must be for him to have to leave all that. It must be so sad for him, but at least he and his wife will have a safer lifestyle in assisted living, where they can receive quick help in the case of a fall or emergency.
This is a lovely essay. And to be “careful and deliberate” in what we accumulate is indeed a worthy goal – one that includes not just belongings, but, I would add, habits, thoughts, words, commitments, and deeds. Let us be deliberate and careful in what we do as much as we are in that which we choose not to do.
Beautifully written and so true about the things in life. I believe, your grandfather is more attached to his things, because they are a big part of him. Not only are they things, but special things, that came from within him, much life works of art!
This is a beautifully thoughtful piece. I am getting rid of some things (quilts and candlesticks) and acknowledging the fun we had finding and making them, the places we would not otherwise have seen, the people we would not have met, the sharing, love and laughter that they represent.(Photographs will keep the memories for us.) I think perhaps there is a time in one’s life for collecting, and a time for letting go with love. Things, and their makers (like the writers talented grandfather) have their place in the scheme of things, but love is paramount. And there is clearly a lot of love in this family. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you for this beautifull piece.
I understand your grandfather and his pain of leaving all selfmade things behind as I make a lot of things myself. But your reflection on it makes me see the other side of holding on to it.
Thank you and I wish you a lot of love in these hard times.
Maybe it wasn’t the houses your grandfather valued so much as the independence they represented. So much of his self control, being captian of his own ship has been robbed from him as he gave up his career, couldn’t do yard work like he once did, drive safely at night, etc.
But you’re right, our relationships are the most important valuable to cling to
I have really tried to reduce my attachment to ‘things’ and I think I have done pretty well. I have a very small pile of things that are purely an emotional attachment and not something I use regularly or serves a purpose. I also try to keep my groceries to a minimum and not have packaged foods that I feel I have to ‘use up’. Everything is fresh or used regularly in our kitchen.
What a moving story. It’s so hard NOT to get attached to one’s things, if they are beautiful or represent happy memories.
My grandmother is getting older and trying to sell her house to move somewhere small. But she has so very much stuff in her giant (maybe 6000 square foot) house. One item represents the amount of stuff: The basket of wooden eggs in the canning kitchen. Not particularly attractive, serving no useful function, just… siting there… like thousands of other knickknacks. I don’t envy her the task of going through it.
This was very touching. I too have a hard time letting go of things I have labored over as opposed to purchased,so I know how your grandfather must feel.
On another note this is why I look forward to visiting this website every monday. There’s always a different perspective on minimalism. Of course I like Francine’s articles, but these stories are a nice glimpse of what I think of as moderate minimalism (not the 100 item extremism that gets more clicks, although there’s nothing wrong with that if it works for you). So thanks!
This is a heart-touching post – thanks for sharing. It reinforces the idea of how our possessions and attachment to them hinders a simpler more meaningful life and one which essentially truer to our life purpose. Simplicity = living with the bare essentials.
This was such a great article. I’ve just been through this “heart-rending attachment to things” with my Mom. She has gone through a whole year of anguish of parting with material things and now lives in a small cottage chock full of stuff she kept. During this time relationships have been strained and fractured and valuable time with loved ones has been swallowed up by messing around with “stuff.” I am with you– I would like to live another way. Thanks for saying it all so well.
The hardest things to get rid of are things someone has made.
When we buy supplies for the house I think 1 month ahead, not 6 months or 1 year. When we moved my mother, there were closets full of soap, paper towels(we use rags) and toilet paper, boxes of pens and envelopes.
Sorry to hear about your loss. This is very well written post.
thanks for sharing
I see your grandfather’s story a bit differently. Rather than focusing on how hard it was for him when the time came to let his possessions go, I think of how much joy they must have brought him throughout his life. Perhaps his life has been enriched and extended, not drained, by those things. In my journey towards minimalism, it is hard to strike the right balance. Things – especially things one makes with one’s own hands or that hold precious family memories – are not always the enemy. Minimalism emphasizes experiences over things but some experiences (like building or crafting) result in the creation of things. Possessing a few such meaningful items at the end of one’s life shouldn’t be viewed as a failure; it may be evidence of a life well-lived.
This really spoke to me. Thank you so much. I called my mother and read it aloud to her too.
I always look forward to Real Life Minimalists. It’s the first blog I open while having my morning cup of tea on Mondays. All the varied experiences are fascinating, and helpful because one can usually relate to some aspect of them.
I copied out and put it where I can see it every day, what a previous contributor, “K” wrote: ….”on a journey to find peace, focus and clarity, using minimalism as a tool”. That truly speaks to me.
It really helps to read about what others have gone through, and how they handle difficult/delicate situations, other people, and themselves, while on this journey. I hope these posts continue for a long time yet.
Very nice story. I helped my grandfather build furniture and I am an artist. You put a little bit of yourself in each piece. I think when you are a craftsman/artist it is a bit harder to let go of that which you created. Also the fact that he felt his independence also leaving at the same time was probably part of it. When you have the ability to create there is a freedom in that as well as a gratitude. He may feel he is loosing apart of himself.
Your story brought back memories of my parents. One day we were suddenly called to their home in Florida. First our father died and exactly three weeks to the day later, my mother. Grieving for not one, but both of their passing, we went through their home. I cannot tell you how difficult it was to go through a home where just about everything was kept. Finally at the end, we each decided on what to return to our respective homes with. I took only one small 12X12 inch box with old photos to pass on to future generations.
When I returned home, I made the decision to give our children what they wanted now, not later. Extra clutter was recycled, donated or trashed. My home now only has functional items to make life comfortable. I cannot convey how wonderful and freeing it is to have our children and their children now possessing items I once wouldn’t part with and what they wanted to have. I want to spare my family the same ordeal we went through. Since this process, I have had so much more time for people and that’s what is important. Instead of spending extra time cleaning and arranging, I get the privilege of getting out more. Not everyone would choose to do this and it is a very personal thing to do. All I know it is definitely working for me. When and if the day comes I have to move, it will be less traumatic because of the amount of possessions I have. I’ve lived in many homes, so I don’t have a particular attachment for my current one.
Again, many thanks for telling your story.
My father also created with his hands: many pieces of furniture. He loved to putter and I truly believe that is one reason he lived as long and healthily as he did. He loved being active, woodworking, working on old cars (left us 57 chevy, 65 mustang and 66 mustang) walking the dog, growing vegetables.
I reread this sad piece. It is very hard to part with handmade items. My mother in law gave me a lot of beautiful jewelry because she said her daughters wouldn’t appreciate it. I have some silver and beads. My sister has my Mom’s diamonds, I have enough.
I like to try crochet projects. I try to get the thread or yarn 2nd hand. I’ve been saving some junk mail to make art projects. No new hobby materials needed.
I just filled a box with dishes for Goodwill and a bag with warm clothes for the local food pantry. I am teaching a class next week on origami Christmas decorations. Whatever craft supplies I am given, I use for my classes. I was given beaten up books left from the library book sale and some broken silk flowers. The next project uses scratched CD’s. I was given a pile of those. Many years ago, I made decorations with brown paper bags and fabric I cut up into ribbons. A friend gives me scraps from the quilts she makes.