THE TROUBLES WITH LETTING GO

Debbie waded through seventy years of keepsakes, a black trash bag in hand. An aerial view of the living room would look like a giant chessboard. Debbie is the pawn that lost its way. Puzzles, games, toaster ovens, and hoards of who knows what was in those stacks—three, four, and five feet high. Debbie ran a hand through her short silver hair. “Okay, what can I throw out?" She picked up a very used puzzle, looked it over, and put it in the bag. One step and her stomach felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. Standing still, she evaluated her feelings. Realization hit. She retrieved the ancient puzzle. After a loving hug, it went back to its stack. “Ah… that feels better." Roaming between her treasures, a lifetime of memories rushed in. It felt profound. “I will not do this.” She threw the evil bag. It sailed through the air. “I’m not moving.” The doorbell rang. “Oh, no.” Making herself smile, she answered the door. “Hello, Melissa. Are you early?”

“Only ten minutes, Mom. I picked up some pastries on my way. Let’s start with tea.” The twenty-six-year-old went into the kitchen, a smile plastered on her face. It looked like it always did when she lived there. Junk and dust everywhere. The tension in her body rose. Her face heated along with her pulse. “Breathe… relax… I will be fine…” Wrangling the kettle under the faucet, she filled it. Doing anything in this house was like a game of Twister. As she looked at the buried kitchen table, her head hurt. “Breathe…. I can do this.” Debbie put her time-wrinkled hands on her daughter’s shoulders.

“You okay Sweety? I know this is hard for you.” Debbie went to work clearing two spaces. Magazines topped with a calculator, paper clips, and tea bag tags with sayings on them all went under the dusty table. The kettle whistled. “Melissa, sit down, I’ll fix our tea.” How can I tell her I can’t move to the senior center? This is going to be a nightmare. The more she thought about it, the more she perspired. Serving the tea, she made small talk with her daughter. “Delicious pastries. The eclairs are divine.” 

Melissa thought her mother had lost weight. She was slender, to begin with. “Have as many as you want. I’ll have another one myself. That cream puff is calling my name.”

“I don’t want to eat them all. They are very good, though.” Her daughter slipped a cream puff into her dish. Debbie picked her pastry up. “Cheers.” She bumped it against Melissa’s. After eating, she knew it was time to fess up. Debbie cleared her throat. “Honey, this is extremely hard for me. I’m not sure…”

Melissa sat up straight. She knew what was next. “Of course it is. I understand, that’s why I’m here. We’ll do this together. I’m here to support you, Mom.” Melissa tucked her short brown hair behind her ears. “We’ll be a team. Okay?” Debbie nodded. Melissa stood and picked up the teacups. Her hands shook. “Ready?” What a dumb question. Her mother would never be ready. 

Debbie frowned. “How could I be ready for this?” Melissa thinks I can throw my life away without blinking? She didn’t want to upset her daughter, so she put her brave face on and entered the living room. Every item in this room had a hold on her. Coming to a box of old stuffed animals, fond memories flooded her mind. Picking up a well-loved brown teddy bear with one eye, she held it to her chest. The pink bow was missing, but Debbie saw it clearly in her mind. Images of her daughter snuggling with it at bedtime or after a boo-boo and buckling it into the car seat with her. She felt every moment as if it were happening now. She smiled. An open trash bag appeared under the bear. Her daughter’s face was stern. I can’t let her down. Bringing the bear close to her face, she whispered, “Goodbye.” The bag shook. “Melissa. You don’t understand what this does to me.”

“I watched Marie Kondo’s YouTube episodes. She’s a decluttering expert. Let’s try her method.” Melissa watched a tear roll down her mother’s cheek. She tried not to cry. “First, hold the item like you are now. Then, thank it for the joy it brought you. Ask yourself if you love it and need to keep it. Say goodbye and put it in the trash bag, an undecided box, or a keep box. Let’s limit the keeps to one box.” She set two empty boxes under the bay window. “There, let’s try it. Repeat after me. I CAN DO THIS.” She gave her mother a look of encouragement.

Debbie said, “I can do this.” Holding the bear to her chest again, she said, “Thank you, Mr. Bear, for bringing comfort to Melissa when she needed it. You were a great friend.” She moved the bear over the black chasm. Her fingers wouldn’t open. “Goodbye, Mr. Bear.” It felt like jello enveloped her body. Her movements were sluggish. Her brain felt frozen. She could make out a muffled sound. With difficulty, her head moved up through the thickness. Melissa was saying something. Debbie squinted as she tried to read her lips. Jello filled her ears.

Melissa yelled, “Mom! Mom, what’s wrong?” Dropping the bag, she took her mother’s face in her hands. “Talk to me. Are you having a stroke?” That’s a stupid thing to ask. “Come with me.” Putting her arms around her mother, she squeezed. Debbie responded by hugging her back. “Good, Mom. We’re going to the kitchen. Ready?” A slight nod. 

Finally, they were sitting at the table. Melissa put a cold cloth on her mother’s neck and put a glass of water in front of her. Debbie’s awareness receded. She gulped the water. “What was that?” She was feeling shaky and fuzzy-headed. Her hand gripped Mr. Bear.

“I don’t know. You scared the hell out of me. How are you feeling?” Melissa stood behind her mom, rubbing her shoulders. “Was that a reaction from trying to throw your treasure out?”

“It seems extreme.” Debbie realized she was in big trouble.

“Ha, extreme. Seriously, Mom? Look at your house, at your habit.” Melissa gestured to the rooms with flailing arms. “This, all of it, is extreme.” She sat down, putting her head on her knees. I will not cry. Taking a breath, she looked at her mother. “This-house-has-to-be-cleaned out. We have to find something that works. Could I clean it out while you’re not here?”

That appalled Debbie. “No. You can’t do that! It’s all mine to do with what I like. I’ll stay here.” 

“With what money?” Melissa gathered her belongings. “God, Mom. Your habit drove Dad away. It gave me OCD and phobias that affect my life. I left for college and never came back. You love all this junk more than you love me! Look at me, Mom. I’m a living person, unlike all this stuff that consumes you! I’m leaving. Call me when you have a plan.” The door slammed and Debbie sat there, staring at the bear.

That night, Debbie lay in bed with Mr. Bear, sobbing. I drove my husband away. I let my daughter suffer because I love my things so much. What have I done? Nightmares plagued her dreams until dawn. Red-ringed eyes stared at the ceiling. “I will fix this. I have to for Melissa, who I love with every fiber of my being.”

Two days later, mother and daughter planned to try again. Melissa, skeptical when she arrived, saw a different woman looking at her. Guilt set in. Red-rimmed eyes filled with determination told her that Debbie was going to do this. “Hi, Mom.” She hugged her. “I love you. I should have called to say that after I left angry."

Debbie smiled. “I love you too.” She picked up a trash bag and began filling it with puzzles. “We can donate these to the Boys and Girls Club.”

Melissa stared in shock. “Mom?”

Debbie looked at her beautiful daughter. “What are you waiting for? Grab a bag. We have a lot to do. Over the past two days, I said my goodbyes.” 

“I have an idea. I’ll take photos of anything you’d like to remember. Sound good?” Melissa took out her phone and tapped her camera app.

Debbie nodded. “I’d like that, thank you.”

The teddy bear hung over the bag. I can do this. Debbie looked at Melissa for strength this time. Her daughter looked nervous. “When I look at you, I feel deep love. That is my superpower. I have loved nothing more than I love you.” Mr. Teddy fell into the trash bag. Both women smiled. “Let’s do this!” By the end of the day, half the room sat empty.

“Wow, Mom. I am so proud of you. Look at this!” Debbie smiled. “Help me get these last bags to the SUV.” It took some finagling, but they got the last bag in. Melissa walked her mother back to the door. She gave her a big hug. “See you in the morning. I’ll pick up lattes for us.”

Debbie felt good. She not only told her daughter she loved her but showed her. Parting with her things was harder than she let on. There were no regrets though. The only thing that matters is people. Especially loved ones. That night, she let herself mourn for every single thing that left her home. Vessels that held loving memories of her life. Her pillow absorbed her tears as her body shook with sobs. By morning, she felt exhausted but lighter. Looking in her mirror, she looked awful. She smiled. “I am okay.”

Six weeks of tears later, Debbie looked around her home. “So that’s what my floors look like.” She laughed. The place looked great. A cleaner came in and made the house sparkle. “Sorry, I didn’t get to enjoy you while I lived here.” The doorbell rang. “Come in Sweety.”

Melissa hugged Debbie and looked around. “Wow, it looks amazing.” Looking at her mother, she said, “You are amazing. What you did here was a miracle.”

“It was the power of love. My love for you.” Debbie held her daughter’s hands. “You know that, don’t you?” She searched Melissa’s eyes. 

Melissa squeezed her mother’s hands. Through tears and a thick voice, she said, “I’ve always known.”

Debbie nodded and wiped her eyes. “I’m looking forward to my next chapter. Let’s go.” Grabbing her jacket and purse, they headed for the SUV.

“Mom, wait a minute, please. I need to say this. I want to get it over with, so we can leave here and have fun.” Melissa swallowed. "Do you realize hoarding is a disorder?” Debbie nodded. “Once you get settled, I want us to visit your doctor. You can’t fill your new apartment with things. You may be at a turning point, but you need support going forward. How do you feel about that?

Debbie smiled. “That’s a good idea. I’ve been nervous about my collecting too. I will need help to go forward.” She took Melissa’s hand. “I know that was hard for you, and I appreciate your thoughtfulness. Having a plan is always a good thing.”

Hand in hand, they walked past the FOR SALE sign sitting on the front lawn. Neither woman turned to look at the old yellow house. Settling into the vehicle, Melissa felt a massive weight leave her body. She handed her mom a gift. The white wrapping paper was full of rainbow hearts and a big red bow sat on top.

“Beautiful.” Debbie opened the present. It was a photo album. She turned the pages filled with family photos mixed in with her special keepsakes. “This is perfect. I don't know how you found the time. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Melissa smiled. “Buckle up Roomie. I have some fun plans for us. Someone has to keep you out of trouble until your senior apartment is ready.” 

Debbie said, “I can’t wait! Let’s blow this joint.” She laughed, and Melissa joined in.