what to do with an empty house

On Saturday, it was moving day for my grandma. She is moving to an assisted living complex, and I was there to help. And by help, I mean watching my nephew so that those in charge (i.e. my aunt, grandma, etc.) and those who could actually move furniture (i.e. my awesome brothers), could do what they needed to. I know...it was a really hard job. But it left me contemplating the empty house.

It has been a little bizarre watching my grandma pack up a life of 89 years to go live in a tiny little room. Years of stuff scattered to the winds (between the DI, my room, my aunts, dad, uncle, brother, etc). If I remember right, she moved in to that house on 12th street in Ogden in 1954. That's a long time. For someone like me who falls apart when saying goodbye to a life of 2 years, pretty much I can't even comprehend it. It makes me realize that we really can't take our stuff with us. And I don't even mean that in a figurative, when you die kind of way. She literally cannot take much with her to this new place. But we humans sure love our stuff. And for those of us who are museum professionals, it reaches a new level. I really believe in preserving the past. That means I have a lot of stuff from my own past. I love to read...thus the hundreds of books I have at my moms. Sorry mom! And those things are important. But how much is too much?

As Saturday wore on, the house was empty. No furniture. Nothing on the walls. And I was getting pretty sad. For my grandma, and for myself. But there was my nephew...happy as could be with the few toys he had. Granted, he's four, so he has no concept of what was really going on. But he was pretty content to just throw toys down the mail slot, play Frankenstein/Dracula/the Mummy/Igor with his aunt, and play bowling with his kid sized bowling set. I learned a lot from him in that moment.

I realized that emptiness scares me. My grandma's empty house made me terribly sad and nervous. I equate emptiness with loneliness. And loneliness is scary. But I am trying to empty my own life. It is full, to be sure. I have amazing family. Some great friends. But it is time to create my own empty life. There is too much noise. Too much clutter. Too much baggage that I need to finally be done with. All of that stuff is hard to hold on to it sometimes, but it provides some level of comfort and so I keep holding on. My grandma had an empty house, but the important things remained. Family. Memories. Thought. It might be pretty sad sometimes, but the space will give me room to begin new chapters of my own life.

As I continue to create empty space in my own life, I hope that I can remember that amidst an empty house, there is room to play. And play in a way that couldn't be done with all that furniture and stuff cluttering up the room. The furniture served its purpose at one time...but the purpose is done and it is time for something new.