Unboxing Life

After a week of unpacking, sorting, putting away — today we’re less apt to say, “It’s in a box somewhere” and instead marvel at our progress.  The important things have been located.  We’ve unpacked our spoons and bowls now which means Ben & Jerry’s after dinner.  The teevee machine now lights up our evening lives (after a frantic rustling through boxes looking for the remote).  We found the toilet paper and the shower gel.  The toothpaste wasn’t far behind.  We’re set with the essentials; we’ve only the flotsam and jetsam left to arrange.

Midway through this past week, I was struck by how the evidence of one’s life can so easily be wrapped in newspaper and placed in a box, only to be discovered anew several days later.  If you ever want to see your soul, put all your stuff in boxes and forget about it all for a couple of weeks.  Then slowly unpack.  You’ll find it’s not what you have that’s your true treasure.

In a few days when we’re done with all the unboxing, we plan to have a big garage sale.  We figure it’ll be a good way to meet our new neighbors.  I suppose they’ll be able to determine the kind of people we are by the things we discard.  There’s nothing like judging a person’s character from their garage sale items.  I suppose I’ll have to mix in some nice things so they don’t think we’re trying to pawn off all our ragged and tacky stuff.  It’s that old “What will the neighbors think?” mantra that was so carefully placed in my childhood head.  Nevertheless, first impressions are lasting and it’s important to be a good neighbor … especially in the desert where snakes aren’t far away and scorpions hide in your shoes.

Yes, we’re nearly done.  Dan and I are the sort of people who will keep at it until it’s all tidy.  Dan says he’s never moving again.  I agree!  Never again do I want my ice cream spoons to “be in a box somewhere.”

P.S.  For anyone who might be following, my dear friend is okay with nothing more than a nasty scare and a couple of biopsy stitches to show for it.  Maybe lighting a candle works after all.  Stay well, all my friends.  Don’t make me light my candle — the poor thing is nearly down to a nub now.