Uprooting the Deeply Rooted

We're currently 2 1/2 weeks away from moving and there are boxes everywhere. The guy who works the Goodwill truck knows me by name. I'm starting to count things down- this is the last time I'll pay this bill or get this magazine or buy toilet paper until we move to our new house. The kids asked to drive by the new house yesterday. We're all excited, but it's a lot of work.

I bought our house 9 years ago when I was married to my ex-husband. I was working full-time and this house needed a LOT of work. There was a hole in the balcony as big as a garbage-can lid and every room was ugly beyond description. Instead of putting time into carefully going through and cleaning out my old house, I came over to the new one after work and painted, prepped, stripped and cleaned. The boxes in the attic, left there from my move from law school, were moved into the attic here. Some of them had been untouched during the 9 years I'd been here.

My husband Nate moved in after we got married in 2004. He already had a house, but we decided we'd live in mine. It was clearly MY house, with all of my artwork on the walls, my furniture everywhere.

Nate sold his house 3 days after he'd put it on the market, a year after we were married. We already had a child at that time and Nate didn't have the time or the energy to go through his things. They joined mine in the attic. I tried to make as much space for his things in my house as I could- I felt he'd sacrificed his home identity when we got married.

We had too much furniture, too many things. Two sets of plates and two coffee makers, eight phones, two standing mixers, three blenders, 12 blankets, 15 towels- we simply had too much.

Both of us tend to be pack rats and I have had to remind myself that just because something has value doesn't mean it has value to me.

There is an emotional component to it too- prior to meeting Nate, I had gone through a divorce which left me feeling like the stuff I'd kept was like the piece of myself he hadn't chipped away. I didn't want to give up anything I still had left. I was not done healing from my divorce when Nate and I married.

When Nate and I got married, Nate had been a widower for 4 years. Tossing out things that had been theirs was like treating his past with disregard- it was a dishonoring of her memory.

We've been married for over 5 years now. We have two children, we've been on 8 vacations; lost a grandparent and a friend; bought two cars; been to the doctor numerous times and to the hospital 5 times; been to a few weddings; welcomed a nephew into the family and gone through the daily and weekly trials and tribulations that a family goes through together. In short, we've both moved beyond our pasts. We carry them with us, for good and for bad, but we don't need the things anymore that were as important to us as they were when we united our households.

We've been going through the boxes one by one. We've had an extra trash pick-up at our house and we've borrowed an extra trash can a couple of times. We've made many trips to the Goodwill truck.

It feels good to clean out and sort and purge the things we have.

We're moving into our house. We chose it together after looking at a LOT of houses. We'll pick out the wall coverings and the floor coverings together because it's our house. I'm excited about what it's going to mean for us as a family.

I still have too much fabric and he probably has more tools than he needs, but neither one of us is moving something into our new house simply because we don't know what to do with it.

That's a very clean feeling.