Downsizing
STORY BY
DR. NURIT ISRAELI
Photos courtesy of Dr. Nurit Israeli
I didn’t know how hard
it would be to part with things
(yes, even things)
that bear witness to my story.
After all, there are so many
upsides to downsizing,
and I was determined to travel
light to the new apartment.
What should I take along
for this late leg of the journey?
I whittle away ruthlessly,
but at night, I find myself pulling
back
from the ‘To Be Discarded” pile:
boxes with old letters and gifts
I received from loved ones
years ago—
I haven’t got the heart to let
them go.
I pull back the poetry books
(almost all),
and the cards from the children
(yes, all),
photo albums (just ten),
old passports from way
back when,
and my books on Zen.
Every decision becomes a
mirror.
I remove piles of sweaters from
clothing shelves in a new closet:
They can be replaced, and I
need space
for bins filled with mementoes
(moved to the “To Be Kept” pile,
just in case…)
What do I really need now?
Those fragments of memories,
those objects that inhabited
my past
are only “things,” I know.
But still,
the bottles filled with sand
from revered beaches
that stare at me from
a “To Be Trashed” pack?
I’m pulling them back…
I wrote this in July of last year,
as we were preparing to move
to North Shore Towers. I was
ready to move onward, looking
forward to a new chapter, and I
assumed that my state of readiness
would make the task of downsizing
easy. Little did I know…
The Holmes-Rahe Life Stress
Inventory, a popular instrument
used to measure stress, ranks
“changes in residence” as number
32 out of 43 of life’s most traumatic
events. Even if the change is for the
better, the enormity of relocation
may induce stress.
Acclimating to the new apartment
was easy. The apartment
was, for me, love at first site (and
sight…), and the process of renovation
made the new space feel
familiar. But letting go of our home
was harder than I anticipated. We
had lived there for 42 years. The
children grew up there. It had been
our witness. Its soul had been crafted
by us. Every corner was soaked
with memories.
I had a particularly hard time letting
go of my office, situated in the
house, which some patients referred
to as “the womb.” Detaching myself
from the garden was also difficult. I
loved adorning it with flowers year
after year. It was, for me, a canvas
inviting my imagination.
Going through our belongings felt
like going through chapters of my
life—a form of life review. Decades
of memories were intertwined with
these belongings. They represented
my past, my preferences, my decisions.
They reflected parts of who I
was and where I came from.
I was delighted whenever the
children or the grandchildren
wanted anything. One of our grandsons,
who rents an apartment in
Princeton where he is a student,
took some of the furniture. I was
thrilled to see, during a recent visit,
that his living room looks like our
old den. We also opted to leave
things behind for the buyers of our
home: furniture, accessories and
plants, which the buyers accepted
with pleasure. The house needed
some continuity, and we wanted
the new owners to feel welcome,
find out what a good house they
were going to call home.
Decisions still needed to be made
about the rest of our possessions.
There was round after round of
downsizing: giving, donating,
trashing, filling container after
container, moving back and forth
from room to room, from the inside
to the outside and back. There were
rounds of going through furniture,
books (so many books…), artwork,
cookware, dishes, pictures, clothing,
linens, knickknacks—sifting
through memories, examining textures
of yesteryears, evidence of a
life… Still, strangely enough, for a
long time the house continued to
look full…
I learned about myself via my
choices: I learned from decisions
of what I “need,” decisions of what
I can part with, and the “Hard to
Decide” piles I kept for “later.” Items
tethered to memories were hardest
for me to release. Eventually, I gave
myself permission to hold on to
sentimental items, often opting for
meaning over practicality.
The new apartment is furnished
and decorated with items we took
along—an attempt to make the new
chapter flow from the one before
it as smoothly as possible. For
Bottles filled with sands from revered beaches came along
Bins filled with mementoes...
16 NORTH SHORE TOWERS COURIER ¢ July 2018