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To the Core

Mari and I shall soon be moving to Tucson, to a lovely house on the West Side, halfway up a hill.  Because the house is less than half the size of the one we are in, we are seriously paring down.  We have been packrats, filling all the available space with sticks and stones and ancient bones, but they have been our sticks and stones, and we have loved them!  Some have been with us for decades; some we love because of the people associated with them, or because they remind us of places we have known.  "Vidar gave us that cup!"  "We watched them blow this wine glass in Lillehammer!"  "Mom gave this to me!", or "I gave this to Mom."  "Dad used that!"

We are moving to a city, to a place on earth, that we love.  It is a desert filled with life:  the Sonoran Desert.  It is Tucson!  This time, both of us are retired.  It is a time to change, so we are sorting:  "Sell this, toss that, give these away!  Keep these!"

It is a time for honesty, a time, not to continue on, but to re-imagine.  Hell is moving to a rest home with the last of your grandparents' walnut furniture.

At the same time, it becomes clear that we are--most of us--something unique.  There are things we will not discard.  There is no doubt that when we settle into our next house on the side of a ridge, that we will not appear to be standard issue.  Our realtor here, advising us, not how to pare down, but to "declutter", wants our home to appear like something from Better Homes and Gardens.  We are not "decluttering".  We are paring down to a kind of self-definition, and it is not standard issue.

It is painful, exhilarating, and clarifying.

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